Twilight of the Iris
by adoranymph
Summary: In the last moments of her life, Arturia Pendragon took a final chance that was given to her so that she might change the terrible fate of her kingdom of Britain. Little did she know that she would find more than a path to the miracle she longed for-yet not without its own dark and painful price. Another companion fic to Love Sprung from Winter and Blood of the Lamb.
1. The Knight and the Lady

**Chapter One**

 **The Knight and the Lady**

 _Merlin had said that a great destiny had been set for her, that it was imperative that it must carry through, without fail._

 _The young girl of golden hair who had never been allowed to adorn it with flowers as she might've wished, had she been given a choice, stood in her tunic and breeches, her boots caked with mud, her face dirty from the work required on the day of a jousting tournament. How many countless days had she practiced over and over how to fight with a sword, pulling horses and carrying heavy armor, building up her strength, playing her part in the future laid before her so that Britain might know peace?_

 _Even so, when the challenge of the Sword in the Stone had been presented, Arturia was ready for it. She only hesitated for a moment, as times in the life she had spent flashed before her…how intently she had listened to Sir Ector's teachings at his knee…the days she had spent horsing around with Sir Kay, whom she had loved as her brother, even though they shared no blood, even as she served as his squire._

 _She had enjoyed and treasured the brief life of a human that she had been given._

 _"_ _Arturia."_

 _Arturia looked up, and the image of Merlin had appeared before her, swathed in robes of midnight blue, reflected in his long white beard. He observed her with somewhat sad eyes, as though, fleetingly, he might actually pity her, in spite of what must be done._

 _"_ _Now, think carefully, young Arturia. If you take on this responsibility, if you pull that sword from that stone, if you prove your worth this day and become king, you can no longer be human."_

 _But Arturia nodded without having to give it a second thought. "I understand. I have feared that fact from since I was very small. And I accept it for what it is." And then she smiled, very slightly, but very sincerely. "I love what precious life I was given, and if I could give that kind of happiness to everyone here, to give that kind of happiness to the whole of Britain, when it has been so dark for so long, I would sacrifice anything I had to, and gladly. I have faith in my strength, and I have faith that as long as I remain true to those ideals, such dreams will come true. A life is nothing at all, if it is without worth, and a life cannot have worth without the willingness to make a sacrifice."_

 _Merlin nodded soberly, though he too did smile, a little. "I see that Fate has done well to choose thee." He bowed out of sight, disappearing into the ether._

 _Arturia let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and faced the gleaming hilt of Caliburn again, the sunlight reflected off the blade giving the burning appearance of silver flame. With a hand as steady as a rock, she gripped it tight, and pulled._

* * *

The skies had reddened, as though the clouds had soaked in the blood spilled upon the earth below. Arturia Pendragon blinked blood out of her eyes as she caught her breath, having sunk to her knees after delivering the killing blow to the last to stand against her.

Mordred, blood of her blood, when all was said and done. A homunculus, born of her and Morgan Le Fay through the twists of magic. And yet she could not recognize her as her own, as her heir.

Even so, she had received a mortal wound herself in order to slay that last proof of her missteps as a king. But she supposed it was the only kind of death that someone like her deserved. She had striven to lead those under her kingship as an example of light and purity in this time of darkness. And she had, for a time, been victorious. But in order to do this, she had had to sacrifice her own humanity. As a king, she could not expect to live as a person. Living among people though, she didn't know how to make that work without everything going wrong, as it did.

Her life had been lonely from the very beginning, even as she had grown up so humbly among such kind and sincere souls like Sir Ector and Sir Kay, but she had told herself again and again that as a king, she must accept solitude as the only way she could live. To serve people, in the end, she could be close to no one. Not even the woman who had had to sacrifice her own life as a woman to be her wife, to maintain the illusion that Arturia was a man, to keep her true gender a secret in order to remain king, as the prophecy and fate commanded her.

What could she have done, to prevent this madness? It seemed it could not have turned out any other way. Not after Guinevere…and Lancelot…and Mordred….

She gave a gasp of pain, weakening as her lifeblood flowed away. She clutched Excalibur more tightly in her fist, the only thing holding her up. Yes, with Avalon gone missing, there was nothing she could do now to stave off death.

What could she do, when her scattered thoughts were full of nothing but anger, and regret, and hopelessness? If she was still alive in this present moment, then there had to be something she could do with what precious seconds she had left.

Otherwise, she would die consumed in despair.

She felt the tears come, yet she had no energy to cry, and so she let them fall listlessly down the sides of her face smudged with blood, dirt, and sweat. There was so much misery before her in this hellish vison of death on this battlefield of Camlann, she had no strength left to absorb it. The task of breathing alone anymore was difficult enough, and soon that too would be spent, leaving the rest to fall into the endless night.

She had failed, and all would be lost.

 _Do you wish to change this Fate?_

A voice whispered to her.

Arturia looked up at the dark, clay-red sky with her dulling green eyes. _What?_

Though she saw nothing of the sort, she sensed a kind of hand reach down from the Heavens and offer itself to her.

 _You can change this Fate. Seek that which is called the Holy Grail, and you will have your wish and your miracle granted._

A wish and a miracle.

That was her last hope.

Yes, she could accept that.

Arturia lifted a shaking hand up to the sky, reaching back up to that hand she felt beckoning her from above. _The Grail…yes, show me the path to it…I will give all I have...burden me with the power of the Heroic Spirits…put my faith in one last chance…to save my beloved Britain._

A peace settled into her then, and she knew that she could die without regret…because with this pact, it would not be the end.

In the darkness, she heard the call, and her Spirit answered. The call of a man's voice she did not recognize, compelling her through Time and Space towards its source, passing through the power that was in fact the Holy Grail itself. She bathed in it as in a waterfall, and became awash in a flow of information and magic, everything culminating in her mind.

What era she was destined for, what would be expected of her in her role as a Heroic Spirit, serving her mage Master as a Servant.

And then it was complete, and Arturia had returned to a physical form in a new time and place.

As the magical residue cleared away, hot like steam, Arturia appealed to the silver haze before her, seeking the one who had summoned her.

"Art thou the Master that called me?" she asked.

She held her breath, feeling reborn, swathed as she was in an imitation of her armor imbued with magic, her sword Excalibur at her side.

"Impossible," gasped the voice of the man she had heard calling for her.

Arturia turned towards the voice, opening her jade green eyes alight with new life in her new form as a Heroic Spirit, pulled into that ancient ritual they called the Holy Grail War, the Heaven's Feel. And this would be the fourth in a series of cycles.

She came face to face with a young, dark-haired man dressed in a suit of black, and a beautiful, silver-haired young woman dressed in a gown of white. Both of them stared at her, dumbstruck, unspeaking.

"I ask thee," Arturia tried again, "art thou the Master that called me?"

It was the woman in white who spoke first. "King…Arthur…?"

Arturia's eyes flicked from the man to the woman. "Yes. I am he. Or 'she' and 'was' rather. But it was the man's voice I heard summon me." Her eyes flicked back to the man.

The man remained stunned and unable to speak. So the woman stepped in again, clearly doing her best to be of help.

"But…Arthur is a…man's name…."

Arturia lifted her chin in the woman's direction, her armor clinking faintly with her movements. "Arturia, if you please. Arturia Pendragon. However…." She considered the sword in her hand, made invisible now by invisible air magic, for the purposes of protecting her true identity from other Servants and Masters in the coming War. So, she would have to cast off that name, Arturia, for the name of the Class into which she had been summoned.

Saber.

"However…I suppose it would be, Saber, since that is the Class into which you summoned me." Again, Arturia—Saber—looked to the man.

But the man stared at her moment longer, and then another, and then another, and then he narrowed his dark eyes at her, and from that glare Saber felt nothing but pure contempt. Saber reacted to such an affront in a similar fashion.

 _How dare he? Does this man think so little of me, seeing that I am in fact a woman? Is that what this is? What does_ he _know about me?_

She opened her mouth to voice her anger with this attitude, but then the woman took a graceful step forward, and smiled quite genially.

"Very well then, if this is who you are, this is who you are. We accept it as it is. To answer your question, it was indeed Kiritsugu who summoned you, your Master." She gestured to the man. "But I'm his wife, Irisviel, supporting him in the coming Grail War. So while he has the Command Seals, I'll be beside both of you in this fight. And I must say…it's a great honor to meet you, Arturia." She laid a hand over her heart and gave a kind of one-handed curtsy.

At such an introduction, Saber found herself softening a little. There was something about this woman, in contrast to the coldness of the man, that was so warm and inviting. Like a child one couldn't help adoring upon first meeting her.

But then the man—Kiritsugu—he looked away from Saber and caught his wife's eye. And despite her irritation with him, Saber had to observe with a measure of awe and respect the communication that seemed to pass between the two of them. In that moment alone, she could see just how close the two of them were as husband and wife, that there were many things that needn't be spoken aloud between them, because there was already a mutual understanding between them about many things.

Saber couldn't help but think sadly of the distance that had been between her and Guinevere. Even if Saber had felt no romantic attachment to the woman, Guinevere had been an admirable woman, in her own right, and it would have been nice if with at least the one who was meant to be her life partner, she could have shared some kind of partnership, despite her own oath of solitude. If she had to be honest, this Irisviel reminded her a little of Guinevere, if with a touch more innocence.

Then Kiritsugu nodded, and without looking at Saber, he turned heel and left.

Freshly offended at this complete lack of acknowledgement on his part, Saber glared after his back, feeling like it was daring her to call out to him, to shout at him and express her outrage towards him. But she would not be baited so. She stood firm, and with patience.

The great chamber echoed with the sound of the door slamming. Irisviel turned to Saber with meek and sincere apology in her eyes, eyes that were luminously red even in the deep blue light.

"Please, don't mind him."

Saber shook her head, softening again in the presence of this rather enthrallingly strange woman. "It's quite all right. He is the kind of man who lives his life in rigid silence. I have come across a few in my time." Lancelot had turned that way, in the later years, when his and Guinevere's betrayal had come to light and everything had been crushed to ashes.

Irisviel gave a small laugh that bordered on being nervous. "Well, I'd say it's nothing personal but…he isn't like most people. True, I really haven't met any people other than him, but…I just know…how different he is. So…he handles things…in his own way. It…doesn't always sit well with others."

"Different, is he?" Saber raised an eyebrow, a new curiosity about this callous-seeming Master of hers sparked in spite of herself. Even if he felt nothing but hatred for her upon the moment of their meeting each other, there was still something about him that the King of Knights latched to.

Perhaps part of it was because of this woman Irisviel, who was his wife, as she'd proclaimed. Saber certainly didn't doubt the truth of that. But because it was a fact, there was something about the idea of them as a married pair that was intriguing somehow. Just within minutes of meeting them both, she could see that Irisviel was gentle and refined in contrast to what was clearly a rough and brooding nature in he who was Kiritsugu. Yet they had somehow become united in marriage.

Of course, their situation might have been brought about by circumstances similar to how she and Guinevere had come to be married. Yet...the way Irisviel had looked back at Kiritsugu…it was more than evident…there was something between them that bound them in a deep intimacy that was strong and unshakeable.

Then again, Saber had been wrong about understanding such things in people before.

Irisviel smoothed out the skirt of her white gown and folded her hands, smiling at Saber. "Well now, ah, Saber, then? Yes, I suppose we should see about settling you in. It will be a little while before we depart for the ritual battlefield of Fuyuki, Japan. But the general plan is to have you serve as my guard during the course of the War as you do battle against the other Servants. Kiritsugu…well, he prefers to operate alone in these matters, but I don't suppose that would surprise you now that you've met him."

Saber blinked and then actually found herself smiling, a little amused by Irisviel's candor. "Very well." She nodded, understanding, accepting what was being asked of her. "Then I shall follow you, my Lady Irisviel." She withdrew her sword, concealed as it was by invisible air, and gave a small bow.

"Oh please," said Irisviel, laughing, "just Irisviel is fine." She was beaming. And then she offered her hand.

Saber stared at it a moment.

Irisviel faltered, perhaps afraid she was being too forward. "I'm sorry. I just learned that it was a normal human custom for two humans just meeting for the first time as friends to shake hands. At least in the West. As I understand, in the East, it's more common to bow but well…. We can be friends, can't we?"

"Friends?"

Saber had never really had anything like a friend before. Certainly not a female one. In the manner of comrades, the closest things she had had to friends were her Knights of the Round Table, and her adoptive brother Sir Kay. Lancelot had been the greatest of all the Round Table knights, which had made his betrayal all the more painful, yet she had born it, and silently forgiven him…because she knew all too well why it had happened, and that it had been her fault.

Irisviel suddenly became slightly bashful. "I'll admit, I'm new at this. I've never had a friend before."

Saber sucked in her breath, her mouth falling open slightly at this admission in which she found immediate kinship. And then she did more than smile—she grinned. If this fight was to be her last, the last chance she had to save her beloved Britain before accepting death for good, she supposed she could allow for small sentiments like this. After all, she sincerely felt for this woman, perhaps from the very start.

"Why yes, I think so. Of course we can be friends." She took hold of the hand Irisviel offered and the two of them delicately shook.

Irisviel positively glowed with elation. "Wonderful! I'm so glad. Well then, shall we be off?"

As the two of them made for the large doors into what appeared to be a chamber built for such rituals as summoning a Servant, Saber made note of the images in the stained-glass windows that lined the walls on either side. They all featured images of red-eyed women that looked identical to Irisviel.

When she asked Irisviel about this, Irisviel paused at the doors. "Well…we'll say…they are my sisters. But they've all gone now."

"I see." Saber could see that she had come to a box that must remain sealed to her, and she respected that. In any case, the way Irisviel had spoken of them had seemed to make her sad, just for a second. So, simply as a means to ease away that sadness, she made an effort with adding, "Well, at least you don't appear to be alone."

"No, you're right." Irisviel brightened considerably. "Kiritsugu has made me a very happy woman."

Saber tilted her head to one side, giving her a sideways, humoring look. Actually, in truth, it was her way of asking to hear more without actually saying anything. She was, after all, still quite curious about this cold Master of hers of whom Irisviel seemed to speak with such impossible warmth.

However, Irisviel shook her head. "I know what you're thinking. But while he's different, he's still at heart, a human being." She laid a hand over her own heart, as she had done before when she'd curtsied, and seemed to think reverently of something a moment before at last she tugged open the great doors to the chamber. "You know, I'll see if I can't speak to him."

"Oh, really, that isn't…" Saber started to say, but Irisviel held up a hand.

"No, no. As his wife, I must say, I'm not entirely impressed with his manners at present." And then, of all things, she winked. "It seems to me that it's grown men least of all who realize when they're pitching a childish fit." And then she glided out of the chamber.

Saber followed her out, at a loss for words. Still, if part of her role in this War already was to be tasked with protecting this woman, she would prove to be a unique charge. More than that, but there was something that radiated about her that made Saber forget just how miserably she had died, as though that life had all been nothing more than a bad dream, and she could start anew with this new reality before her and her quest for the Holy Grail.

It was like Irisviel was the light of hope, personified.

Yes, protecting a woman such her, would indeed prove to be a most noble task. In fact, it was quite easy to fall into step just behind her, and there was something Saber enjoyed already about the way Irisviel conducted herself.

Saber had spent so much of her life as Arturia—as King Arthur—trying to measure up to very lofty and pure yet intangible ideals. It was nice, in its own way, to admire another person this way. To admire a woman who clearly exuded strength and yet clearly had never in her life done so much as heft a dagger, much less a sword.

And with the kind of natural acceptance as that of the movements of the celestial bodies of the sun, the moon, the stars, the planets, Saber felt her loyalty to protect this woman sealed as if it were inevitable. Yet that was somehow comforting.

At the same time though, there was something sad about Irisviel that Saber felt again, like when she'd spoken of those likenesses of her, her "sisters", in those stained-glass windows. Like she were observing a flower at the peak of its beauty, moments before it was about to drop its petals and wilt.


	2. Freeze Out

**Chapter Two**

 **Freeze Out**

"There, and now just the tie," said Irisviel.

So Saber cinched up the black tie around her neck, completing the simple black modern business suit she'd been dressed in.

"Perfect!" Irisviel clapped, gushing. "You know, Saber, if it's not too bold to say, if you'd been born a man, you'd have been quite handsome indeed."

Saber managed a smile, regarding herself in the mirror and her lady charge behind her, fully understanding that Irisviel was ignorant of the kind of feelings making such a statement caused the King of Knights.

If she'd been born a man, so many things probably would have been easier.

But that was _her_ problem, not Irisviel's.

Irisviel, however, suddenly blushed and covered her mouth, waving a hand. "Oh, please don't take that the wrong way. As a woman, you're very lovely in your own right."

Saber raised an eyebrow. "Lovely? Well, I'll admit, I've never had anyone refer to me in that way." She smoothed at a few non-existent creases in her black sleeves.

Irisviel's brilliantly red eyes widened. "Really?" And then she laughed, if nervously. "Oh, well…yes, I suppose…they wouldn't…." She lowered her gaze very apologetically.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Saber told her at once, with earnest gentility, turning away from the mirror and towards her new companion. "If I had to be honest, I'm truly flattered to hear it for once. I never really thought about it until now." And she meant that.

Somewhere inside her, there was an image of herself dressed in a frilly country gown of blue and white, her hair let loose in all its feminine beauty—the girl she would never be able to be, the girl who could look at a man and be free to love him, who could choose to concern herself with feminine things, to revel in the reality of her true sex, rather than suppress it and dwell within the cage of ideals. For some reason, Irisviel's being able to see that girl deep inside her, made Saber feel happy in some small way, as she hadn't felt in…perhaps ever.

Irisviel, for her part, perked up at this, and her smile returned. "Really? Oh, good. I'm glad." Impulsively, she took Saber's hand in both of hers and gave it a squeeze, as some unspoken sign of their having taken their first steps into their fledging, unexpected friendship successfully.

Then came the deep sound of a man clearing his throat.

"Iri."

Saber and Irisviel looked round, and Saber watched with increasing curiosity the change that came over her lady charge at the appearance of her husband in the solar. The way she bounced over to him made her seem so much like a child even as she inhabited the body of an adult woman.

"We were just trying on some clothes for Saber, since she can't withdraw into Spirit Form, and can't very well be seen in her armor on the streets of Fuyuki." Irisviel was positively beaming.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," said Kiritsugu, as if he hadn't even heard what his wife had said. No less, he spoke with such sang-froid that it gave the normally unflappable Saber an internal shiver.

She couldn't help a glower in his direction. The rationalization that such a response came from his commitment to ignore every bit of her presence—even another's reference to or mention of her—was the only reason he had responded as he did to Irisviel's words (or lack thereof) incited her anger with him all the more.

She opened her mouth.

But then Irisviel said, "Of course," and then she said kindly over her shoulder to Saber, "We'll be just a minute."

Without even giving a single look in Saber's direction, Kiritsugu swept from the room with Irisviel's arm linked with his. And, admittedly, he did respond physically to this gesture, curling his linked arm in a reflection of his wife's. Something so simply intimate that served as a puzzling indication that there was in fact a mutual attraction between these two people. That somehow, there was a loving man underneath that cold mask that only Irisviel could see.

It would remain perpetually perplexing to Saber.

Heaving a sigh, suddenly drained, she proceeded to tug off the suit she'd been given and traded them back for the clothes she wore under her armor.

* * *

It was a strange dance they danced. The moment Saber would catch sight of him, something leonine and feral would rise up within her, ready to spring, demand to be acknowledged, power and all. Yet at the same time a forbidding power radiating from him, dark and frosty, would strike her from the look he would give her when their eyes would meet.

Saber, for her part, had no qualms about putting her foot down—literally, with a hard and purposeful stomp of one leather boot—and threaten to block his path entirely if necessary. If she had to resort to tripping him with her leg, she'd do it, if it would get him to talk to her.

But Kiritsugu Emiya was like a living shadow. Nothing could touch him. She was light, and he was the darkness escaping her, skirting away into the corners, out of sight.

He would fluidly sidestep her, giving her nothing more than a scorching glance over his shoulder from his dark eyes.

Yet even as such close proximity reminded her how much shorter she was than he—she barely came up to his shoulder—she would not be dissuaded.

"Kiritsugu."

Though she didn't shout, her addressing him by name resonated in the hallway as they passed yet again in this manner as though she had. She felt she might become living thunder she was trembling with so much anger and frustration.

Yet he swept onward, keeping his back pointedly to her, refusing to even flinch her way.

Saber curled her hands into fists in the gloom of the hallway, the questions she had asked over and over echoing back to her in her head, how she had flung them at that same cold back again and again, further fueling her frustration, not just with that man, but with herself too.

 _"_ _What, pray tell, is your goal in this War? What do you seek from the Grail that you would enlist my aid to win it? I need to know that, Kiritsugu, if I am to trust and give you my loyalty. What exactly do you plan to do? What are you expecting of me?"_

Such practices made her feel like a childish girl chasing after some stoic rogue, filled with such a burning desire for him to just notice her. She couldn't bear exhibiting such weakness, and the way she felt it must make Kiritsugu feel about her, how he probably held her even more in contempt for it, left her positively fuming.

 _"_ _What are you expecting of me?"_

Nothing, apparently.

A gentle hand pressed on her rigid, shaking shoulder, and Saber turned around, surprised.

"Irisviel."

Irisviel smiled kindly for her, sympathetically even. Her crimson eyes were so gentle, it pressed in on Saber's chest, as though her heart were on the edge of breaking.

But Saber calmed herself with a deep breath. She'd learned long ago to manage sudden feelings of anxiety or hysteria—such things had been considered "womanly weaknesses" in her time, and she hadn't been able to afford to be thought of as such for so many reasons.

"Saber, would you like to meet my daughter?"

Suddenly everything negative roiling inside Saber evaporated, replaced entirely by benign and sincere curiosity. She blinked. "Your daughter?"

"Yes," said Irisviel on a laugh as she nodded. "Mine and Kiritsugu's."

 _That man's not only a husband but a father too?_ Saber was beyond incredulous, but she wouldn't insult Irisviel by expressing any kind of skepticism.

She nodded appreciatively. "Of course I would. I'd be honored."

Irisviel took her by the hand and led her down the hallway in the opposite direction of where Kiritsugu went, which was fine by Saber.

They came to a large room full of books, tables, and squashy armchairs, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace.

"Welcome to our sanctuary!" Irisivel threw her arms out rather dramatically. "To most people it might look just like a library, but Kiritsugu and I made a kind of home out of this room. We're the only ones who really use it."

"Mama?" piped a small girl's voice.

In a corner of the room clear on the other side, a small girl who belonged to that voice looked up from the pile of books she was poring over on the floor. She had a pad full of blank paper on her knees and seemed to be drawing in it. She looked just like a miniature of Irisviel, with silver hair and red eyes. Upon realizing she was no longer alone in the huge library, the girl brightened at the sight of Irisviel, hopping up to her feet to reveal her cute little outfit of a purple blouse and a white skirt. She bounded over to the two women, calling, "Mama!" and running into Irisviel's outstretched arms.

The girl was so tiny, and seemed to weigh hardly anything at all as Irisviel easily lifted her into the air and swung her around, the both of them laughing. And then Irisviel hugged the girl close, pressing her cheek against her own, nuzzling her silver hair that was just like hers.

"Hello, my love," she cooed, drawing back to look at her daughter. "You're wearing the clothes Daddy bought for you, I see."

"I'm sorry, Mama, I just couldn't wait." The girl certainly sounded sincerely sorry, but Irisviel only laughed.

"It's okay, we can show them off to him later."

The girl sucked in her breath, and her red eyes went round. "Did you get new clothes _too_ Mama?"

"Of course." Irisviel touched her forehead to the girl's, like she was being conspiratorial with her. "Daddy takes care of his girls."

The girl beamed and giggled.

Saber frowned. This was all very difficult to understand. The way Irisviel spoke of Kiritsugu, she might as well have been speaking about another person. On the other hand, it was possible that Irisviel had created some kind of illusion for herself about the kind of man Kiritsugu seemed to be, at least to Saber, and she'd drawn her daughter into that illusion too. It could very well be that Kiritsugu had bought them new outfits, but who was to say he hadn't had someone else secretly choose them for him, or that he'd even had someone else present these gifts to them rather than do it himself?

After all, Saber was no stranger to absent fathers. Her own father had been perplexing in his own way, highly disappointed that she hadn't been born male for a start. Yet even though she'd never had him in her life, she'd somehow felt his presence. However, that had never really been anything like comforting. More just like a hovering specter.

The only way she could see Kiritsugu as any sort of parent was being _that_ sort of parent. There were many rooms in this castle, after all. He could've locked himself off from his daughter, and perhaps even from his wife most days, never reaching out. How could he, when he was so cold and so harsh in his sinister bearing?

Moreover, this was uncomfortably making her think of not only her own childhood, but of Mordred's life too. Saber had certainly deigned to acknowledge her as her own, perhaps because she had been so unnatural. A homunculus. Created out of a piece of magecraft that had momentarily changed Saber's sex from female to male just for the purpose of creating that life.

What a mistake, all that effort.

"I'd like you to meet a friend of mine," Irisviel went on, and she turned to Saber.

The girl followed her gaze, her little mouth opening in wonder at meeting someone new.

"This is Saber, can you say hello?" said Irisviel sweetly.

"Hello, Saber," said the girl, just as sweetly. "It's very nice to meet you."

"It's very nice to meet you too," said Saber, giving a very gentlemanly bow, even as she was wearing the blue dress she always wore beneath her armor, and the blue ribbon that tied back the decorated bun in her blonde hair.

Irisviel set the girl down on her feet at the girl's behest, and the girl proceeded to give Saber a very graceful curtsy in response to her bow.

Saber smiled. "You have a very lovely curtsy, miss."

"Thank you," said the little girl, straightening.

For a moment—but maybe it was just Saber's imagination—but it seemed like something crackled in the girl, very subtly. Nothing outward or obvious, just something in the way her silver hair lifted just a fraction.

Even so, the girl was smiling wide. "Are you going to help Mommy and Daddy with their work in Japan?"

Saber nodded. "I am."

"Good. I think with you on their side, they'll do a great job for sure. So, thank you very much for helping them!" And then Ilya bowed earnestly, and when she came up again she was still beaming cheerfully.

Saber glanced over at Irisviel.

Irisviel shook her head, covering her hand with her mouth. "It's something her father taught her, the bowing. He's _from_ Japan, you see. There it's very much a gesture of respect, and supplication, as well as greeting and parting."

 _Taught her, did he?_ Would a man like that really take time like that with a child, regardless of whether it was his own?

There was just no understanding him.

On the other hand, it could have been another one of those things Kiritsugu might have taught her out of some mechanical sense of necessity, not because he viewed it or took it as any kind of bonding experience.

Setting that aside, Saber turned back to Ilyasviel and smiled for her again. "Of course, miss. I'll do my very best to help them. You have my promise."

The girl laughed, crimson starlight dancing in her eyes. Was she really so in awe? Was Saber really so awe-inspiring? It seemed to be the case.

Irisviel stroked back her daughter's hair proudly. "My love, why don't you go back to your drawing for a bit? Saber and I have some boring, grown-up things to discuss."

"M'kay." The girl waved to Saber one last time. "It was really nice to speak with you, Miss Saber."

"You too, miss." Saber waved back, and then the grinning, playful girl skipped back across the room to her pad of paper and piles of books on the floor.

Irisviel turned very seriously to Saber. "That's quite a declaration, Saber," she said, not without perhaps a little admiration herself. "You don't even know what it is Kiritsugu and I plan to do with the Grail."

At this, Saber simply couldn't let things pass without letting off a little of her frustration. After all—

"Forgive me, but it would appear I've yet to be informed of what that is," she said, and even then, she did her best to suppress her vexation, though she folded her arms and lost her smile.

And Irisviel was certainly contrite, for which Saber felt guilty at once.

"Well, I'll tell you now, if it's all right."

"It's fine, Irisviel, really. Besides, I can't exactly say anything else except that I _will_ help you, and mean it when I say it. I forged a pact with Kiritsugu, after all." And then she added, her smile returning genuinely, in her effort to bring lightness back to the mood, "And your daughter has a face that would make anyone want to promise her anything. The whole world in fact."

Irisviel's answering and gentle smile was extremely knowing, and somehow enigmatic. "You're really quite right about that. Though speaking as her mother, I knew I wanted to promise her anything I could before she was even born."

Her expression turned inward for a moment, and Saber felt the need to respectfully lower her eyes to the carpet, knowing that Irisviel's mind had gone to contemplate something sacred: that role of motherhood that she had also observed much of in her own time.

It was strange really, as in some ways she had felt secretly privileged to have been raised to live a man's life, as men lived much more freely than women—though on the other hand, her life had been no less confined than if she'd been raised a girl, as she'd been shackled by the chains of fate, the only reason she was being raised as a man in the first place. Even so, there had been something fascinating about watching the behavior of children with their mothers, how drawn the children were to them, how close their mothers kept them.

And well, there again was Mordred, haunting her thoughts. No, she certainly had no right to uphold herself to that lofty pinnacle of what they called motherhood. Or would it be fatherhood, taking into account the context of that child's creation? Either way, it was clear to her that this radiance and purity that came from Irisviel not only came from innate innocence about her, but from her obvious, deep love for her child. This was a woman who would give her love to anyone, even a killer, because she would inevitably find something about him or her worth loving. She was just that kind of person. So it went without saying that she would give the life she had carried for nine months and given birth to an infinite amount of love. Something which had no end, and no definition of any kind, except that it was there, and it was powerfully unconditional.

For Saber, she who had felt the need to close herself from the world as a king, who was meant to protect and serve everyone, could therefore not burden herself with loving a single person.

Not Guinevere. And not Mordred.

The look Kiritsugu had given her over her shoulder in the hallway earlier flashed in her mind, as though resonating with something within herself, like light reflecting off a mirror.

Then Irisviel blinked and seemed to come out of her thoughts. But her smile was still rather enigmatic, and her red eyes were very serious, almost as though they belonged to someone far more ancient in spirit. "In any case, what I—and Kiritsugu—want most as far as the Grail War is concerned…is to use its power to save the world."

Saber knitted her brows and tilted her head to one side. "To save the world?"

"Yes. To make it a peaceful place, where no one has any reason to mourn or cry for all the pain and sorrow that it suffers from war and hatred."

"I see…."

Saber glanced over her shoulder at Irisviel's daughter back to drawing in the corner, and she took the time to consider the particular name by which Kiritsugu—and only Kiritsugu—addressed his wife: "Iri", which was clearly a pet name, a shortening of her full name.

Then she heaved a sigh, closing her eyes and working her mind again.

Even if he had no interest in speaking a word to her, something within her compelled her to press forward with trying to figure that man out.

 _He wants to save the world, does he? That's a rather compassionate wish for someone who comes off as being so cold, brusque, and unfeeling._

That night, Saber took sleep, even though she didn't really need to with her Master supplying her with sufficient mana. But as everyone else in the frozen castle was asleep, and the blustering, wintry wind outside and the warmth of the fire in the solar and the many books it had to offer for her to read to pass the time was all lulling in its own way, she couldn't help curling up in the cushion of the window seat and succumbing to slumber.

Unable to help herself, before falling asleep, she'd found a copy of one of the apparently many legends penned about her, an account written by someone called Mallory. Perhaps she had felt compelled to pull this from the shelf and read through it out of some sense of converging fate settling within her, as tomorrow would be their last day before departing for Japan in the East. That it was a German translation of the original text mattered little, as the Grail's power granted her the ability to read anything in any language, quite as much as she was able to speak any language. Which was helpful in the extreme, for even if she'd been introduced to an English-speaking Master, it would see that the English language had changed much since time, to such a point that to English-speakers now, the version of English with which she had grown would seem like a different language almost entirely.

Even so, this had been a mistake, picking up and flicking through this text, as doing this would only end up giving her fitful dreams about Guinevere, and Lancelot, and Mordred. Then everything had morphed into what appeared to be an island in southern waters, alight with blazing flames and running rampant with Dead Apostles.

And in the midst of it stood a small boy, staring in disbelief, shaking and crying at the horror around him, his hair and eyes dark as midnight…the set of his shoulders familiar even as he was so young and being that he was someone Saber knew she had never met in her previous life as Arturia….

And then she'd awoken from these vivid, troubling visions and feeling as if where she was now was the dream. Things still seemed a bit unreal, having leapt here from that hilltop of death and despair. All the while, her mind reeled from the scene of that boy sobbing for his life in that sea of flames, and at the same time it echoed with Kiritsugu Emiya's voice as it had called to her, drawn her into the pact that had been forged between them.

She had a sneaky suspicion that that boy and Kiritsugu Emiya were one in the same. At least, to believe that he might have some trauma like that buried deep in his past would make his stoic bearing, and that wish of his, more understandable. But she would never know for sure unless she asked, and she was no so insensitive as to bring up something that was undoubtedly painful, even for someone like him.

She wanted to believe that perhaps in the moment that he had summoned her, the two of them had been equal souls who would have been able to speak to each other as kindreds. She _still_ wanted to believe that. That he did in fact just had something broken inside him that kept him from accepting and acknowledging her beyond what was required of him as a Master.

Her jade green eyes drifted over to the quiet window, how sunlit and bright it was. The storm from the night before had cleared. Forcing herself into a sitting position, she felt herself appreciate the crystalline beauty of the winter outside, the forest.

She smiled.

Then there came a knock, and she rose from the window seat. "Come in."

And it was Irisviel who came in, bearing a tea tray. "I thought I'd make us something hot to drink, and then the two of us could chat freely."

"Yes, thank you, that sounds lovely," said Saber gratefully.

Irisviel set the tray on the little round table, and there was the clink of china as she began to set out the tea things.

The sound of laughter caught Saber's keen ear, and she followed it to its source out of the window, and below she caught sight of Irisviel and Kiritsugu's daughter, dressed in a purple coat and hat and wearing little boots. And there walking with her was Kiritsugu, dressed in a long black coat.

Yet somehow, he was anything but the grim specter Saber had first met.

He seemed to be pointing things out to his and Irisviel's daughter in the trees around them. He even got down on one knee at one point and put his hand on her shoulder as he appeared to be explaining something to her. Then the little girl seemed to throw a fit over something that probably wasn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, and Kiritsugu waved a hand, completely contrite, before he scooped the girl up in his arms and perched her, giggling, on his shoulders.

And he…he was smiling. Really smiling.

Smiling as he capered into the forest with his daughter on his shoulders, playing the horse, as Saber herself had seen so many fathers in so many villages do for their sons and daughters in her life before…and she recalled the pang she used to feel when she'd watched those fathers and their children, as she felt it now, that she could've had a moment like that, even once, with her own father.

So…he really _could_ be like that? Was she right then in conjecturing instead that everything he'd presented to her had been a mask, because that would make Irisviel's affection for him so much more logical in so many ways.

More than that, but again, this wouldn't be the first time she'd watched someone compartmentalize aspects of their personality for certain people and or situations. She supposed, she herself was guilty of that sort of thing.

She put her hand to the window, watching the father and daughter playing together with growing fascination, as though she had found a whisper of paradise in observing this simple moment of tenderness.

"What's got your attention out there, Saber?" Irisviel asked.

Saber ran the pad of her thumb over her sleeve as she stood with her arms folded. "It's interesting: your daughter and Kiritsugu are playing outside."

Irisviel made a sound of interest as she finished setting out the tea and drifted over to the window to see. A wistful and nostalgic smile touched her lips when she looked out with Saber, as if she seemed to be pondering something very fond. Perhaps that very thing was the act of her husband and daughter playing together.

"Are you surprised?" she asked quietly, almost amused.

Saber stared at her, and then knitted her brow as her confusion increased. "I was under the impression…that my Master had a colder heart than he's showing now."

"Well…I can see why you might think that." Irisviel sounded like she might laugh, but there was also a whisper of the adoration she clearly held in her heart for her husband. Saber realized it was another part of what made Irisviel seem to glow with such a soft, innate incandescence.

Saber studied her a moment longer before turning back to the window, and something contrite rose up within her. "If that _is_ Kiritsugu's true self…then I am afraid…I must have gravely offended him when we first met." That could be the only explanation, when it came down to it.

Irisviel made something like a snigger, which was strange coming out of someone as elegant as her, but no less genuine somehow.

The furrow in Saber's brow deepened. "Irisviel," she said, rather admonishingly, "you really don't have to laugh at me."

"I'm sorry," said Irisviel as she finished pouring them both tea, and she did sound it. "I was wondering…if you were still concerned with our reaction when you were summoned."

"Yes, a bit," Saber admitted with a sigh, looking away. "True, I did pretend to be a man during my original life, but there was no need for you two to be so shocked when you saw me."

Irisviel took a seat at the table and leaned on her elbows. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, "but…we just couldn't help it: your legend—King Arthur's legend—is quite famous."

Saber's eyes flicked toward the Mallory books tucked back in with the other books on the shelf. She _was_ probably being overly sensitive, for indeed the account—and other accounts besides, including history itself—portrayed her as a man. On the other hand, she hadn't really thought about such books as being particularly well-known, though that might have just slipped her mind during that in-pouring of so much information about modern times via the Grail as she'd been transported here.

She considered Irisviel's bright red eyes with her keen green ones, and then looked sadly out of the window again. "Well if that's the case…do you think then…that he underestimates me…because I am a woman?" Saber swallowed the bitterness that those words evoked within her. She hated asking that question, because it was such a stupid thing, after everything she had been through, to have this still be a problem for her to face.

Memories flickered in her mind, how she'd worked the muscles in her body until they were screaming, until her limbs and abdomen were sore, like they were on fire. Even when she'd reach that point, she'd go on working. Even when she having her damn monthly bleeding, she'd still push through, even when it had driven her to nausea and vomiting. It had never been enough to simply work herself to the bone, Sir Kay and all of the other young boys around her had been working to that standard. No, she'd had to work far harder even than that, so much that there were many times she'd collapsed, and woken up to Sir Ector's concerned and admonishing expression.

 _"_ _Must you push yourself so, Arturia? You want so much to do your destiny proud, but you are still only human. The sex is irrelevant."_

 _"_ _But if I'm to become king," young Arturia croaked, "I have to be more than human, don't I? If I am to be the kind of protector that Britain deserves?"_

 _Sir Ector sighed heavily. "I suppose so."_

 _"_ _Then you are absolutely right, my lord. The sex_ is _irrelevant. I have to be more than a man_ or _a woman. I have to be more than both…."_

Saber clenched her fists at her side.

But then Irisviel said at once: "No, that isn't it at all." And then her tone became meek, apologetic. "That is, if he _is_ upset as you think he is, I'm sure that it's for another reason."

"Such as?" Saber turned sharply from the window.

"I believe he is upset," Irisviel went on quite calmly, "with the people who were around you: the selfish ones, the ones cruel enough, and uncaring enough, to thrust the role of king upon an innocent little girl."

This did nothing to ease Saber's sense of displeasure with her Master however. She glared back out of the window, her eyes following that man and his daughter as they wound their way through the forest at a playful trot, with Kiritsugu still playing horse for the girl. "It was inevitable that would happen. I had resigned myself to that fate…when I drew forth the Sword in the Stone."

"I believe _that_ is what upsets him more than anything else…your resignation to your fate," Irisviel admitted solemnly, stirring milk into her own tea with her same calm demeanor.

"Then he forgets his place," said Saber, letting some of her building vexation with her Master surface against her better judgement, her body rigid and full of frosty bitterness. "He hasn't the right…to judge those of my time."

Irisviel sighed, sounding unusually defeated. "And that is why he says nothing about it to you." And then she added, more as if to herself than to Saber, "It would seem that Kiritsugu Emiya, and the hero Arturia, will never get along. He must have resigned himself to that fact."

Saber stared at her again, even as Irisviel had enigmatically withdrawn into herself, taking a long sip of tea. Turning to look outside once more, she could see Kiritsugu walking back to the castle with his and Irisviel's daughter still on his shoulders. She watched him stop and kneel down and set the little girl on her feet.

Then he looked up at her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her very tightly.

Saber felt an inexplicable and tight lump in her throat, watching this, and she swallowed hard, turning away and facing Irisviel so suddenly that it caught Irisviel by surprise.

"His goal is to use the Grail to save the world. That is his wish, correct?"

"Yes…but you must understand that I get _my_ beliefs directly from him."

"I think it's noble, what you and Kiritsugu are trying to do," Saber commended Irisviel sincerely, in spite of Irisviel's strangely sober admission. "Something to be proud of. And by the pride of my sword, I will see you through it to the end."

Irisviel blinked as though genuinely taken aback, though Saber couldn't think why. After all, it was suddenly clear to her that Kiritsugu trusted Saber with his wife's life and safety. Rather than view it as a kind of abandonment on his part, she considered it the only way he might acknowledge her ability, that he was confident that Saber could protect the woman whom—for all of his attitude towards _her_ given the way he seemed to really act around his daughter—he must sincerely love.

Even if he wasn't one to outwardly show it.

And then Irisviel smiled, though Saber couldn't help noticing with a little unease that there was something…a little sad about it.

* * *

She tried one more time.

Her footsteps echoed down the hall as she anticipated his approach from the other direction, where he'd just come in from playing with his daughter. And then they rounded the corner, the daughter clinging to her father's hand with both of hers, staring up at him with what was unmistakably adoration. But mixed with it was a pinch of concern, as Kiritsugu had his eyes averted, lowered to the carpet. It was the look of a daughter who could see her father had something heavy on his mind, and she could only think to make things easier for him by clutching onto his hand with hers.

Saber didn't miss the way Kiritsugu was squeezing back, as though clinging for dear life.

Her mind flashed back to Mordred, and how she, Saber, had turned from her.

This man was turning from his own child for a different reason, and Saber couldn't help indulging in a moment of self-loathing for it, for comparatively speaking, Kiritsugu was coming out the nobler for it.

For it was clear that his daughter was indeed precious to him.

And then…he looked up, sensing her near at the opposite end of the hall, and he stopped.

The girl stopped too, and followed his gaze to where he was looking at Saber. His eyes hardened into black ice, while the girl's lit up.

"Daddy, it's Saber," she piped up.

Kiritsugu's frown deepened, and he seemed to grip his daughter's hands more tightly, as though he had a desire to shield her from Saber. Something in the gesture bespoke of a man who would be torn between something so simple as being able to bring the world salvation with a wish, and murdering it for his child's sake. Yet at the same time, she could not deny that his clear conviction to the former was indeed strong.

Anyone could see that.

Even so, Saber set her jaw, returning his frown unflinchingly with one of her own.

But then, Kiritsugu turned and knelt down to look his daughter in the eye, his face softening for her like it did when they'd been playing outside. He whispered something in her ear, and the girl gasped with excitement before giving him a swift kiss on the cheek and bouncing off ahead down the hallway, giving Saber a friendly wave before sprinting away into the dark.

Then Kiritsugu rose, his frown back, as he stared at Saber for what felt like an eternity. And then…he nodded once before turning and disappearing down the opposite end of the corridor.

Saber stared back after him, and then let out a breath she didn't realize until then she'd been holding. "So…that's how it's going to be…is it?" She huffed, squaring her shoulders. "Fine. Two can play at that game."

She turned with a sharp snap on her heel and marched back down the way she came, back to where Irisviel was no doubt fawning over her daughter as she sat prattling in her lap.

He might have become a sharp thorn digging under her fingernail, but he would be a more than capable Master. She supposed…in the end…that was the best she could hope for. If, in the end, their partnership won them the Grail, who was she to complain? And even if she could hardly stand him, any more than it appeared he could her, she could at least find it in herself to respect him.

For now.

Regardless, she'd be damned if she let this make her lose sight of things. Not even Kiritsugu Emiya's iron will would change that.


	3. Fuyuki City

**Chapter Three**

 **Fuyuki City**

Saber peered out of the tiny window in the private chartered plane as they made their descent. As the clouds thinned, the sprawling archipelago of Japan appeared beneath them.

And there, on the bay, split by a great, winding river banded by a large red suspension bridge: Fuyuki City.

Suffice to say, it was nothing really all that impressive to her—flying that is. It was like when she'd passed through the Grail, she'd already been given an idea of how these things worked, as if she'd actually flown in a plane several times beforehand. So there was really nothing surprising about it.

And besides, the way her ears popped as the pressure changed in the cabin was fretfully annoying.

"Gum, Saber?"

"Eh?"

Saber lifted her head, as she'd been resting her chin on her hand, and saw that Irisviel was holding out a stick of gum to her.

"For your ears," Irisviel told her cheerfully. "Kiritsugu said if you chew gum, it helps with the popping and the pressure." She herself was vigorously chewing a piece.

"I see." Saber considered her a moment, that smile, contrasted with the anguished expression that had twisted her face when she'd hugged her daughter goodbye. Her heart wrenched then, and it wrenched now, just at the mere thought.

She wanted to ask her if she was all right, remembering those crimsons eyes so close to tears.

But instead she reached over and took the stick of gum offered to her and said, "Thank you." She unwrapped the gum from its foil and inserted it into her mouth, chewing it forcefully as means to get rid of that damned pressure in her ears.

A strange thing, gum, she had to admit that. Something you chewed, like food, but unlike food, was somehow nigh impossible to swallow.

She looked over at Irisviel again, and saw her on her side of the aisle in the cabin peering out of her own window, and though she couldn't see her face, she heard her gasp in delight at the sight before her as they made their descent.

It was like when she'd laughed the day before. Saber was being strongly reminded of those mischievous fey with whom it was wise not to dally, as she'd always been taught by Sir Ector.

Yet even so, there was something about Irisviel that was decidedly not inherent in the fey, and that was this quality that radiated from her, that seemed to characterize her as being utterly incapable of doing anyone ill, even if she disliked them, even if she went so far as to hate them, or at least feel wrathful towards them.

As though doing evil was against her nature.

It gave her one more reason to be baffled with how a woman like Irisviel had ended up marrying someone as cold and stoic as Kiritsugu Emiya. Though upon further reflection, she supposed that stoicism was hardly a sign of wickedness. Sir Ector had been very stoic, unbearably so at times.

Save for those few moments when his concern for Saber—for Arturia—would show, like a needle of sunlight through a tiny hole in a wall.

She thought back to the way Kiritsugu and his and Irisviel's daughter had played in the forest the day before, the way he had hugged the child. It was certainly something she hadn't expected out of him, but it certainly seemed that at least where his daughter—and therefore Irisviel—was concerned, he wasn't so brusque and closed as he seemed to be around everyone else.

But then, why did he feel he _had_ to be? What was all this business with treating _her_ with such cold contempt? Because he was upset with the idea that she had resigned herself to her fate?

Saber clenched her fists on the armrests of her seat, the leather of the black gloves she'd been given pressing against her fingers.

* * *

After getting off the plane when it landed, Saber stepped off, informing Irisviel of her lack of enthusiasm towards the experience of flying. Not that it wasn't unenjoyable, just that it wasn't anything spectacular to her. Irisviel appeared disappointed by this, and when Saber tried to explain her innate ability as a Servant, and as a Saber Class Servant with riding skills, to "take the reins and ride", Irisviel blushed and got strangely amused by her choice of wording for some reason.

The car was no different, though Saber, even as her green eyes immediately trained themselves to scan the crowd with the intent of watching for enemies, she couldn't help at the same time to be intrigued by the bustling of the city of Fuyuki, Japan. In her life as King Arthur, the idea of "the East" didn't exactly exist. There had been an awareness of the ruthless Roman Empire—a foe she and her knights and soldiers had fought many a time, along with the bloodthirsty Viking invaders, the Northmen—or "Norsemen"—always attacking their beaches and plundering for gold—but the world beyond that had been quite vague and formless.

Now with the knowledge she'd gained from the Grail's power, she was entirely aware of many worldly concepts, including that of Japan. In truth, it was a very unique archipelago to be sure, a place that though it was small in land mass had so many people living in it, yet at the same time still had so much open space as far as the countryside was concerned. Actually, she was rather impressed with the practicality with which much of Japan took to the idea of conservation of space, seeing so many buildings called apartment complex house with so many small units as they did, each one somehow containing an entire family in some cases.

Irisviel on the other hand was clearly dazzled, gazing out of the window with the wonderment of a child in a parade, much as she had seemed to do on the plane. And she was certainly vocal about her desire to take a moment and explore the bustling city.

"That would be ill-advised," Saber said at once. "Even now, in daylight hours, it could be dangerous. And anyway, we need to convene with Kiritsugu and start coming up with a strategy for the coming battle. I sense that the first one of this war is very close to taking place." Actually, she sensed that something had already taken place, very quiet and under-the-radar, yet somehow still very explosive. It gave her the impression of a flaring out of a golden light.

But then she noticed Irisviel had looked at her ruefully and then withdrawn from the window, her red eyes downcast as she folded her hands meekly in her lap.

"Irisviel?" Seeing her that way gave Saber a pang for some reason.

Irisviel fiddled with her thumbs, reddening a little again as she gave a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry. It's just…this is my first time ever seeing the world beyond the Einzberns' castle."

Saber gaped at her. "You mean…you've never been out of that castle before? Ever?"

"Mm-mm." Irisviel shook her head. "Kiritsugu did everything he could to try to teach me about the outside world of course…he showed me movies and pictures and gave me books and brought me lots of things the Einzberns would never have dreamed of having themselves…to try and show me how the outside world works, but I've always been forbidden to leave by my grandfather. Kiritsugu, for his part, was always unhappy with that decision. He'd often tell me how much he wanted to take me out of there and show me the sea, and the flowers that grow in springtime…."

Saber blinked, and then frowned thoughtfully. There it was again, such things Irisviel spoke of when it came to her brooding, stoic, even callous husband, who for all of what he had shown Saber in the way he had played with his daughter, just didn't seem like the sort to do something like indulge a woman in gifts and fancies. Yet she had noticed that their daughter had been dragging around a stuffed lamb…and given that Irisviel had never had the means to get in touch with the outside world, and the rest of the Einzberns were stand-offish, left Kiritsugu as the only person who could have gotten something like that for her.

There was just no understanding him.

That being the case, Saber also couldn't help her heart from reaching out to Irisviel, how isolated a flower she had been. And she found herself remembering from looking out the window on the plane that Fuyuki was a city on the ocean, so there was probably a shoreline nearby….

Acting on a thrilling impulse, in spite of herself, Saber leaned toward the driver's seat and asked the driver to stop the car. The Einzbern servant who was driving obliged promptly, pulling to the curb. Then Saber stepped out and went around to the other side where the sidewalk was, opening Irisviel's door and giving the surprised young lady a small and rather gallant bow, as she had done for show on many occasion as a king in the royal court, paying her respects to noblewomen.

"Saber…."

"Come along. We can explore the city together, at least for today." Saber pulled off the black leather glove she was wearing and offered her hand. "As a knight, I would be honored to escort my lady for the afternoon."

Irisviel stared at the hand Saber offered and then beamed up at her, taking that hand in hers and letting her pull her out of the car and to her feet on the pavement. Commandingly she turned to the driver. "Go on ahead, we'll contact you when we need the car again."

"But Mistress…" the Servant started to protest, gripping the steering wheel, an exact copy of Irisviel and yet nothing like her somehow.

"It's fine, I have our Saber here with me," Irisviel told her, waving a hand. "We'll be fine."

The servant begrudgingly relented, scowling nonetheless, no doubt hardly looking forward to the possibility that she'd have to explain to Master Kiritsugu that his wife and Servant had gone missing. She rolled up the window and reentered the flow of traffic in the Mercedes. Once it had disappeared, Irisviel turned to Saber, her face flushed with elation. "Well, shall we?"

She took Saber's hand fervently, leading the way even as she had no idea where she was going. And Saber followed just behind, the reserved nature of her grin a pale reflection of the anticipation bubbling inside her against her will.

* * *

Thus the afternoon passed into the evening, with the two women walking the streets of Fuyuki as if they were both an ordinary pair—two besties having a girls' day out. Even so, Saber felt the crowds pass her by like streams of water separated by a wall of glass. And she caught herself wondering if someone as closed and solitary as Kiritsugu Emiya felt the same way when he was among people. He seemed to be the type to have always kept to himself, and yet it appeared that he just might have opened his heart…to the woman beside her, giggling as she stopped at an outdoor jewelry vendor to marvel at all the glittering trinkets and treasures, her scarlet eyes sparkling brightest of all….

"Oh, and look at that, Saber!" Irisviel squealed and pointed, her attention deterred from the gemstones. "Anime!"

She hurried over to a small market nearby, Saber shaking her head yet smiling as she kept pace, and the two of them found themselves surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors, myriads of hand-drawn, large-eyed characters staring at them from all directions—yet it was inviting, rather than creepy. Saber got the sense somehow that they were saying, "Come, follow us, to a land of wild stories beyond imagination."

However, as with any medium, there was a separation—and a subjective one at that—between quality and tripe. And many things in between besides, as Saber discovered after reading the synopses of a few "manga" and "anime DVDs": some she read with a quiver of curiosity, lamenting that she would never have the opportunity to do anything like watch or read any of the items that drew her in thus, and others she read with a cringe and a headache. Sometimes the cover alone was enough to do that.

"Ugh, that's just _too_ much," she muttered under her breath, referring to some armor far too flamboyant for her taste worn by a "super sentai team", and hastily popped the DVD back in its place on the rack.

She drifted through the aisles, passing by a display of many "figurines", many of them characters she recognized from the anime and manga she'd just been looking at, and wondered what on earth someone would do with a tiny figure that would do nothing but sit there, some of them rater scantily clad, to say the least. She supposed it might have been something like the statues and suits of armor and tapestries within the many castles she had lived in…decoration perhaps. An art form.

Meanwhile, she found Irisviel engrossed in a manga that was allegedly of the "shoujo genre"—meaning for girls, meaning primarily romantically themed.

Irisviel's cheeks were colored as she read, but she was beaming too.

As Saber approached her to suggest they head back out onto the street, Irisviel closed the book and tucked it back on its shelf. When she turned to Saber, she seemed very satisfied. "That was adorable," she gushed. "Though now I wish we could find a straight bookstore that sells novels and serves tea," she added as the two of them left the anime shop. "One where we might find some classical Japanese poetry and the like." And then her eyes grew soft and nostalgic. "You know, when Kiritsugu was teaching me about love, he told me that in Japan love is very much considered a divine feeling, traditionally. So you really have to mean it when you say 'I love you'. It isn't meant to be taken lightly."

Saber chose not to comment on what she thought about the idea of someone like Kiritsugu Emiya teaching someone about love. "I see."

"You know, I think it's beautiful," Irisviel said, shaking out her silver hair so that it shined rather breathtakingly in the early evening sunlight. "The idea that love is something divine. To treat it as something sacred." And then her eyes grew very far away, and it seemed to Saber that Irisviel just might be remembering something bittersweet from her time spent with Kiritsugu as his wife.

Yes, if they'd had a daughter, then they must have grown close to each other. In fact, the fact that they weren't explicitly intimate, and more that it was just implied that they were by their having had a child between them, Saber had to admit, it served to make her and Kiritsugu seem much closer than anyone outside the situation might have otherwise guessed. It perplexingly gave the very cold and distant Kiritsugu a curious touch of humanity.

Then Irisviel seemed to catch sight of something, and her eyes became present again. She pointed between two buildings to a patch of flowing blue. "Look, Saber! I think that's the sea. Why don't we see if we can't go down to the beach? Just for a bit? I've never been to a beach, or seen the sea before, and Kiritsugu always talked about it."

"All right." Saber offered her elbow and her genial, gentlemanly smile. "Shall we, then?"

Irisviel giggled and linked her arm with Saber's. "We shall."

And it began to occur to Saber, as the two of them made their way to the seafront, that she just might be having what they called fun, nearly as much as Irisviel seemed to be having.

* * *

Irisviel kicked at the water playfully with her bare feet, having removed her boots and stockings. By the time they'd reached the beach, the full moon had risen, silver white, shining like Irisviel's hair, and Irisviel herself was luminous.

She had exclaimed at how the sea reminded her of glass, and as she played about in the water, Saber fondly recalled a group of nobleman's children she had once noticed playing in the water on the beach near Camelot one afternoon while she had ridden out with Sir Bedevere and Sir Lancelot. While the children had been playing, so carefree, the vast grey sea beyond had brooded with the threat of invaders.

Still…she hadn't been able to help but smile at the children playing.

"Ah, what a wonderful day," Irisviel gushed with satisfaction. "To have been escorted by such a gallant knight." She grinned at Saber over her shoulder.

Saber bowed humbly, laying a hand over heart. "You do me honor in saying so. I am glad that I could do the duty of a knight and serve her lady well as an escort."

Irisviel had picked up a stone from the beach and tried skipping it. It fell into the water and disappeared below at an angle. She gave a little cry of disappointment, but she didn't dwell on it and instead sought another stone. However, instead of trying to skip it, she seemed to admire how smooth it had become, softened by the eroding, tumbling waters, and she pocketed it instead it.

"Saber," she said, sounding thoughtful. "Do you like the sea?"

"Do I like the sea?" Saber hadn't really ever given it much thought. She thought about it now. "I suppose," she sighed, remembering those children again, but then remembering days on end spent staring out at that sea with narrowed, suspicious eyes, ever wary for the dreaded appearance of a fleet of ships. "I don't really know," she finally said. "In my day, and in my time, the sea was a source of danger, where invaders came from the mainland to attack. Realistically I could feel no affection for it. Actually…if I were being honest…I probably hated it."

Irisviel looked at her, and this time, she didn't giggle in that peculiar way of hers that felt like she meant something more by it. She just gave Saber a sad smile. "It's a pity. You're a girl just like me, and yet, as King Arthur, you weren't able to have the luxury to enjoy simple things like this." She splashed at the water with her toe.

"It's neither here or there to me," said Saber, verbally waving away Irisviel's concerns. "But what about you? Are you really sure you were happy with me as your escort?"

"Of course!"

"Well…surely you would have preferred that Kiritsugu had escorted you instead."

Irisviel's beaming face faltered, and she turned away, subdued. "Of course I would," she said quietly, almost mournfully. "But he couldn't. It would only cause him pain and suffering."

"What do you mean?" And then Saber asked, with some care: "Does Kiritsugu…not enjoy the time he spends with you?" Finding that no matter whether Irisviel said yes or no, she wouldn't be surprised by either answer, somehow.

But the answer Irisviel gave her was something entirely unexpected altogether, given everything.

"When he's happy," Irisviel said, turning to the sea, her voice growing far away, as though it were a seagull taking flight out towards the water. "When he's happy…for some reason…it causes him pain."

Saber stared at her, at a loss for words. More than that, but her answer struck something within her, as she once again felt that impression of a mirror reflecting inside her. She couldn't really think why, at first, for she believed that in her moments of happiness in her former life, she had been truly so, for it had been a rare and precious thing for her to be happy. And yet, as the years had worn on her, so few as they were, the idea of being happy had become a more distant thing for her with every passing day, convincing herself it was enough she was serving the good of her country as its sovereign and protector.

And there in that mirror, was Kiritsugu, that man who had happily played with his and Irisviel's daughter in the forest. Had he felt pain underneath that utterly sincere smile, even then? There was something about that that made him again seem at once so very human, and yet at the same time seem like something slightly more than a human…an enigmatic being born a normal person but cut off from normalcy, perhaps by circumstances that were very not-normal.

In that moment, when Irisviel said that, Saber felt a brief yet sharp pain in her own heart. Hastily she pushed it aside, and frowned more pensively, wondering again about the very strange man that was Kiritsugu Emiya.

Irisviel meanwhile had went on staring out at the sea, and it was a good guess that she was thinking of where her husband might be, what he was doing right now, maybe even wondering when she would see him again.

Guinevere had had that look on her face, many a time, staring out from the castle battlements…but Saber had known that it hadn't been of her that she'd been thinking.

But such melancholy memories were pushed out of her mind as a presence intruded upon her ruminations. Turning towards where she sensed it, her green eyes fell on the nearby district of warehouses near the docks, and with her very keen Servant's sight, she spotted a lithe young man hefting one lance over his shoulder, while he held another at his side. He titled his head in a beckoning gesture.

Warily, Saber padded over to Irisviel across the sandy beach and grasped her by the sleeve of her soft white coat.

Irisviel went perfectly still. Did she sense the Servant's presence too?

But then she asked, "An enemy Servant?"

"Yes," Saber affirmed. "Over that way. It seems to be inviting us to engage it in battle."

"Well then…shall we take it up on its invitation?" Irisiviel turned her crimson eyes on Saber, and they were curiously mischievous. Could such a lady get excited about something like battle?

Saber warmed to it, smiling again. "I'd like nothing better."

"My goodness, Saber. Judging by your tone, I'd say you're the kind of girl who looks forward to a fight." Irisviel's tone was playfully teasing.

"I suppose…once you've had a taste for battle," Saber mused aloud in response as they started on their way along the beach toward the warehouses, "it either destroys you, or makes you crave more." It was times like these that she kept hidden her own past ruminations upon the bloodthirsty nature that seemed to lay dormant within her, awakened the first time she had faced real, life-or-death combat. On that day, the adrenaline and the fear that had surged in her blood had sparked something in her brain that had changed her, and she had felt that any shred of graceful, traditional femininity that she'd still possessed had been scattered away to the winds, save for a very miniscule, residual amount.

That dark beast now raised its head again inside her as she and Irisviel entered the complex of warehouses, where the dark-haired man with two lances crossed their path.

And right then, something more feminine stirred within Saber even as the beast of battle licked its chops. For he did have a rather handsome face, easy on the eyes even while the rest of him was so rugged and limber, his face touched by a single beauty mark.

"Ah, at long last. I've been searching all day, seeking a worthy foe," the man sighed. "But everyone just slinks away, back into their holes. You alone have accepted my offer." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he considered his prospective first opponent. "That pure energy surrounding you…you are the Servant known as Saber, I presume?"

"Indeed I am," said Saber with a measure of forthrightness. "And judging by your choice of weaponry, you are the one they call Lancer."

The Servant correctly identified as Lancer chuckled dryly. "Being unable to honorably name myself before my opponent troubles me more than I can describe. I harbor an extreme dislike for these rules, but there you are." He took a step back and then held up his lances at the ready, a short golden one and long red one.

Taking this cue, Saber called forth her armor, and transformed thusly in a whirl of magic. With Excalibur in hand, she concealed it with the magic of "Invisible Air", so as not to give away her identity to the enemy, as was warranted by the rules of the Grail War.

Behind her, Irisviel spoke up. "Saber, please be careful. I can use my healing magic to act as combat support for you, but more than that…."

Saber held up Excalibur at the ready. "Just leave Lancer to me. It's disturbing to me that his own Master has deigned to reveal himself. Perhaps they plot something, so be sure to watch yourself. And Irisviel," she added, this time feeling she had to hide her smile.

"Yes?"

"From this point on, I entrust you to watch my back."

"Very well," said Irsiviel, with a note of steel in her voice that somehow didn't surprise Saber. "I leave you to it. Grant me victory in this fight!" she added with such command that Saber quite believed that Irisviel was in fact her true Master.

Something thrilled in Saber's heart to hear something like that from Irisviel.

"I shall," she responded with enthusiasm, lifting her blade proudly as she took a fighting stance. "Without fail." She met Lancer's eyes, taking note of their golden color. She felt again that stirring those eyes inspired, a foreign yearning she'd never really felt before. Or maybe she had, but had forced herself to forget, resigning herself to a woman disguised as a man. But then she sensed the thrall that was pulling her in, and withdrew from such a feeling, seeing for what it was. "You have a charm spell," she said, raising an eyebrow at Lancer.

Lancer chuckled again, but there was just the faintest edge of bitterness to it. "Forgive me. It was something of a…curse I was born with. Or perhaps you should blame yourself for having been born a woman," he added, rather slyly to say the least.

But Saber easily deflected the quip, even as she did find it rather amusing. "You really don't think you can win against me with such an enchanted smile and swagger, do you?"

"It was worth a try." Lancer gave an apologetic shrug. "So I see it's true what they say about the Saber Class's resistance to magic. I am pleased to see that my first opponent is made of sterner stuff."

Saber picked up a sincere note of admiration in his tone, and in spite of herself, she was just a little bit pleased. At the same time though, she couldn't help but be rather regretful, as it suddenly occurred to her how worthy her first opponent was, and what a shame it would be to have to eliminate him so early in the game.

But this wouldn't be the first time she'd have to make that kind of sacrifice, and she was more than certain that it wouldn't be the last.

She hoped, anyway. After all, she wasn't going to let something like admiration stop her from doing what she had to in order to get to the Holy Grail…the last chance she had to right the wrongs she had committed….

Though she would be sure to do so while at least maintaining her pride and honor. Otherwise taking the Grail for herself would be nothing more than just another sin.

Even so, as the two of them proceeded to exchange blow for blow, Saber felt herself become that other part of herself, that part of her that reveled in the adrenaline rush of battle. As the two of them came at each other again, their weapons clashing, their eyes locked, she also felt something reach out from each of them to the other, like a bond forming, their duel turning into something more of a dance. But then, she supposed, there were many similarities between dueling and dancing.

And all the while she kept her eyes on both the long and short spear, trying to figure out which one was the Noble Phantasm.

In a moment when they both broke apart, it seemed Lancer was developing a similar feeling towards their fight, as he took the time say, "It's impressive for a woman to fight so hard, even as she doesn't break a sweat while doing it." He touched a finger to his cheek, catching a few drops of the blood from the scratch that now marred it courtesy of Saber's sword point.

Saber grinned, and felt it was very leonine, her teeth no doubt shining in the moonlight. "You needn't be so humble, Lancer. Though even without my knowing your name, those words from such a Master of the Spear, do me honor. I gratefully accept them."

Breaking into their banter however came a snide voice that could only belong to Lancer's Master, commanding his Servant to use his Noble Phantasm. To which Lancer complied, dropping the short gold spear and loosing the wrappings from the red one, revealing it in its full shining glory.

So…the long spear was the Noble Phantasm.

Coming at her again, Saber found herself on the defensive, as Lancer used the spear to chip away at the Invisible Air, the focused wind mana she was using to conceal Excalibur. Realizing the only way she could get in close enough to get in a good strike at him was to let him hit her at her armor, where his blow would be deflected, Saber lifted her sword to let him in…only to have the point of the spear slice right through her, spilling her blood, running her through with pain so that all she could do was fall back, barely maintaining her stance on her feet.

How…how had she been hit? she wondered bewilderedly as she clutched her side. Stranger still, how had the armor remained undamaged…?

Unless….

"Saber!" Irisviel called out, and immediately Saber felt her lady's healing magic seep in, closing up the wound and stemming the flow of blood.

Blinking, Saber already felt herself recover. "My thanks, Irisviel. The healing is doing its work. I'm fine."

Behind her, she heard Irisviel give a sigh of relief, and she smiled again. "I see," Saber said to Lancer, "your spear negates magic."

Lancer planted his spear in the ground, returning her smile. "That was an impressive counter," he complimented sincerely. "I like your indomitable spirit."

"Hm. You flatter me."

"I'm afraid though, that given the nature of my spear, you must realize that your armor does you little good in this fight."

"Very well then." With a single strike of her arm at the air, she threw off her armor, magically disintegrating it.

Lancer lifted his eyebrows, clearly impressed. And then he laughed. "Ah-ha! I see now. Nothing will stand in your way it seems. I like your boldness and audacity." He took a step back. "But I'm afraid…you may be biting off more than you can chew, young lioness."

"Not if I kill you before you can strike me." Saber lifted Excalibur with both hands, holding the blade behind her, preparing to spring.

"You're betting everything on one move? How cavalier." But even so, Lancer's golden eyes danced with the enthusiasm. Clearly, he was just as bittersweet at the idea of having to strike down someone like Saber.

"Prepare yourself, Lancer." And Saber partially tore the Invisible Air from Excalibur, exposing its golden light in a burst of a magic, before she shot forward.

But as she did, Lancer kicked up his short gold spear from the ground, and Saber realized too late that in fact his Noble Phantasm was _both_ spears. Unable to turn back, she plowed onward with her blade, even as Lancer struck her through her left wrist.

Saber fell back again, giving a hiss of pain. Worse than that, but she felt the tendon had been severed, unable now to move her thumb. She lifted her bleeding wrist, staring at steady flow of blood. "Irisviel, I require healing."

"But…but I did," Irisviel's voice piped up. And then, more panicked, she exclaimed, "I did it! I felt it do it! It should be working!"

And Saber realized….

"I see now. A spear that negates magic, and a spear that curses whatever it touches…. Couple that with your charm and looks, and the mole beneath your eye…you are none other than he of the Knights of Fianna, Diarmiud of the Love Spot."

Lancer shouldered his long spear. "You've found me out. I cannot deny that what you say is true."

"How fortunate I have been then, to have had the chance to do battle with one as skilled in the spear as yourself."

"Please, it is I who should be honored. Of all the Servants to come forth in search of the Holy Grail, there's only one that would wield a golden sword such as yours: Arthur, the King of Knights. Or…is it _Arturia_? Ha. Truly, the honor is mine to have been pitted against such a legendary swordsman as you. Or…swords _woman_ , rather."

Saber humbly said nothing and merely smiled once more.

"Saber…I thank you," Lancer continued, graciously. He even gave her a little bow, and Saber felt her cheeks color against her will, though she managed to keep it to herself. "To say that I have had the chance to do honorable battle with you, now that we at last know each other's true names…it is more than I could have ever dreamed of. Even more the pity, that things must end here." Again, his smile and tone were bittersweet, and Saber shared his sentiment deeply.

"Indeed. I could not agree with you more." She lifted her blade again with her good hand. She still had no intention of yielding, and she could see in the way Lancer regarded her that he knew this. That and she could see that he had no intention of yielding either.

 _If I had met you…in another time…in another life…._

But just then, the world split with lightning, and at first the roll of thunder suggested that a storm had suddenly come upon them.

Though it pained her, she threw up her bad arm, the one she could no longer use to hold her sword, shielding her eyes from the blazing, flashing light, gritting her teeth, steeling herself for this new challenge that had come their way.


	4. Mercenary Heart

**Chapter Four**

 **Mercenary Heart**

Saber had quickly gone from readying herself for a tougher fight to just plain frustrated as things progressed as they did. The Heroic Spirit Rider had thundered in on his chariot, outright proclaiming himself as Iskandar, King of Conquerors. At which point he loudly and brashly made the proposal that she and Lancer join him as his royal retainers, at which Saber took umbrage.

"I am a monarch in my own right," she informed him, her chest swelled with pride. "I am Arturia, King of Briton."

Rider raised his bushy red eyebrows. "You are King of Briton?" And then he laughed, as if it were all a joke, even as Saber could sense that he didn't doubt her. "What a title, for such a little girl."

Saber lifted Excalibur a little higher. "How would you like a bite of this little girl's blade then?"

Though Rider still looked mightily amused, something flickered in his eyes that shined with something akin to respect. He was re-evaluating his impression of her.

Lancer shook his head, clearly as unimpressed as Saber was with this man's arrogance. But Saber supposed arrogance came with the territory when you were a King of Conquerors. For her part, though he seemed a bit full of himself, there was something boyish about him, however it came through just in his eyes.

Good Lord, he was a _dreamer_. The kind with a _twinkle_ in his eyes. Saber was just this close to rolling her eyes.

Lancer's Master meanwhile, appeared impatient with the proceedings and ordered his Servant to get on with defeating Saber.

But then things turned more complicated when a great golden light broke in upon them, and there stood yet another Servant, standing haughtily upon a streetlamp with his arms folded.

He was as bright as the sun, but not in a pleasant way. More in that way that made one squint, the eyes watering, as they struggled to see past the garish light. And his face, well…it was beautiful, Saber couldn't argue with that. But it was an elfin, wicked beauty…a self-absorbed beauty that was more than aware of itself, and those eyes…such a venomous red.

They listed on her a moment as he looked about at all of them, a king surveying his kingdom—for clearly all the world at his feet was his kingdom, everything upon which he set his gaze, he had that air about him—and then he turned away, a disinterested feline.

Archer.

"What fools are these, calling themselves kings and heroes of men? I am the only true king of this world. It would behoove you to bow before me now, while I've still yet to decide whether or not to let you keep your heads."

His eyes fell on Saber again, and Saber raised her chin in defiance, green eyes meeting red. Archer raised his eyebrows at this. She'd given him a reason to give her a second look.

Then a shadow broke in upon them, one riddled with the violence of insanity—Berserker, of course. He swept in like a demon knight, wreathed in black smoke, pulsing with darkness. But the eyes—or the visor rather…if it didn't give sight to flames instead of eyes…burned as if echoing the pits of Hell.

And he radiated too with something, something buried within that darkness…hate…and anger.

Saber tightened her hands on her sword.

"Saber," squeaked Irisviel behind her.

Far from forgetting her presence, Saber edged closer to her charge. Particularly when Archer and Berserker clashed, Archer crying out, "You dare to look upon me with your unworthy eyes, cur?" in an ireful sneer.

 _What a bastard,_ Saber thought with a measure of contempt. Though admittedly, what appeared to be his Noble Phantasm was a glittering and magnificent sight to behold. An array of golden portals opening up behind him, growing in number, from which came beautiful, shining weapons, the kind found in treasure troves of ancient legend. He fired them like arrows, as was the way of the Archer Class, with admirable precision, like missiles.

But Berserker was surprisingly nimble, catching one weapon in midair and then using it to knock away the other coming at him, slicing it in two. Whatever he touched _became_ his Noble Phantasm.

A shadow of a hero who had never been able to really reach that status?

This of course angered Archer all the more, and he proceeded to unleash more of his wrath upon Berserker. But just as his anger seemed to reach its peak, Archer stopped, and with a curse he vanished, taking with him his golden light. Possibly his Master had called him away, thinking he was getting too out of control. If so, then Saber would have to agree, as personally she thought the man was throwing nothing more than a glorified tantrum. He might have been beautiful, and he might be powerful and a formidable foe, but she had little respect for him.

Meanwhile, Berserker's sense of awareness, scattered as it was, seemed to peer about through the haze of his madness, and his gaze found Saber. He paused in a moment of thoughtfulness that was rare for the Berserker Class, before he threw back his head and let out a raw roar of unmistakable rage.

Before Saber even had a chance to fully process what was happening and figure out what had set him off, he leapt forward, grabbing hold of a street lamp and ripping it up from the ground, and then barreling after her with it, waving it about heedlessly as he charged after her like a mad bull. Saber managed to block him by the skin of her teeth, feeling the full power behind his blow down to her very bones as the light-pole-turned-Phantasm clanged against Excalibur's blade.

Then she broke away and leapt back, trying to lead the lunatic away from Irisviel. But just as Berserker came at her again, Lancer actually came between them with his spears and deflected the next blow, proclaiming his intention to help Saber finish this beast so that he might be given leave to finish his unfinished duel with Saber honorably.

"It would be nothing short of a disgrace if I let this go on," Lancer told her, tossing her his charming smile.

Saber met it with one of her own. "Lancer…."

Lancer's Master however had other ideas, and compelled a resistant Lancer, using a Command Seal, to force him to side with Berserker instead in destroying Saber.

Lancer whipped around, crying up to the shipping containers stacked high. "But my Lord! Please! I beg of you, do not taint my honor with such a command! I will help Saber defeat Berserker, and then I swear I shall defeat Saber!"

"We don't have time for this Lancer!" Lancer's Master shouted angrily. "Now, obey me! By my Command Seal—"

"My Lord!"

"—I order you to help Berserker destroy Saber."

Almost immediately, Lancer went rigid, as one put under a compulsion, and then about-faced and struck out at Saber, even as his shadowed face expressed painful shame.

"Sorry…Saber," he rasped, clearly fighting against the impulse of the Command Seal and losing.

Saber, recovering herself from his attack, felt pity for him, for this honorable knight whose honor was being compromised by a Master who clearly had no respect for such a sense of honor, at least in this context when it suited him to abandon such niceties for his own gain.

Steeling herself, determined not to let this be the end of her path to the Holy Grail in spite of the odds against her, Saber held Excalibur before her.

"Irisviel," she called, "I ask you to run. Now. I will hold them here while you escape."

She felt Irisviel's hesitation, and then heard her say, "No," in a very firm voice.

"Irisviel!" Saber looked round at her desperately, willing her to heed her words and flee.

But Irisviel shook her head, her red eyes turning strangely steely. And then she said, "Saber: please believe in your Master!"

Saber gave a gasp, suddenly sensing another dark presence over the shipyard, much like the kind she'd felt from her father as a child, the father who had never seen her, and yet she had felt him, every day.

"Kiritsugu is…here…?"

She turned, following her sense of that presence, and up above, near a towering shipping crane, the moonlight glinted just off of the long cold metal of what Saber perceived with her keen vision was some kind of rifle used for sniping targets while they were unawares.

 _He'd use…a sneak attack…?_

That was as unmagelike a thing as she had ever heard of. Even Lancer's Master was much more of a mage than Kiritsugu Emiya clearly was, abiding at the very least by the rules of the Grail War as a proxy conflict.

Following his line of sight, she surmised that Kiritsugu had his gun trained on Lancer's Master, exposed thanks to his having stepped out in the open to taunt Rider's Master (who was no more than a boy and apparently one of Lancer's Master's students—to Rider's credit, he stood up for his Master against Lancer's Master, as it appeared that Lancer's Master had intended to have Rider for his Servant instead, only to be usurped by the unassuming and cowering youth in Rider's chariot, and Saber had to admire the way in which Rider vituperated Lancer's Master for skulking back in the shadows as he was doing).

Crazily, Saber had half a mind to cry out a warning, only in the face of such a despicable display as that of the tactic of the knife in the dark.

She was saved the trouble however at the crack of the whip from Rider's chariot, as Rider himself charged electrically forward and stampeded over the bloodthirsty Beserker, all but crushing him and forcing him to retreat, vanishing out of sight. The danger passed, Saber breathed a sigh of relief, as Rider chastised Lancer's Master once again for forcing Lancer into such an honor-compromising situation, which irked Lancer's Master such that he commanded Lancer to retreat as well.

Before he left though, a very relieved Lancer bid Rider thanks for helping him to keep his honor intact, and gave Saber his word that they would finish their duel another time.

"Until then," said Saber pleasantly, "I look forward to it."

"As do I." And she might've imagined it, but she thought Lancer might've winked at her before disappearing.

Then Saber gave Rider her thanks, to which Rider turned a little sheepish, strangely enough, and then he and his Master took their leave, flying off again in a tempestuous fashion as seemed to fit his character.

"Saber!" Irisviel ran over the second it was just the two of them on the open grounds of the warehouse district, taking a hold of Saber's injured hand in both of hers and looking it over solicitously.

"I'm fine, Irisviel," Saber assured her with a smile. "No worse for wear. This curse on my hand might be a problem, but nothing I can't endure."

Irisviel looked up from her very physician-like examination of Saber's hand and regarded her with the awe with which she'd regarded her before. "Oh Saber. I'm sorry I couldn't have been of more help." She soundly sincerely distraught over it.

"Don't be that way, Irisviel." She managed to close the fingers of her cursed hand around Irisviel's, giving them a squeeze. "I couldn't have done this without you. With you at my back, I feel as if it made me stronger in the fight. Stronger than I've ever felt in a fight before, if I'm being honest."

Irisviel blinked as if dumbfounded, and then beamed, pleased she contributed more than she'd thought. "Well, for only our first battle of the Holy Grail War, I'd say we came out pretty okay all things considered. We'll be even fiercer next time."

And Saber laughed. "Indeed. I don't doubt that, Irisviel."

* * *

Saber shed off her magical armor and returned to the black suit and gloves she wore as her street clothes. Just beyond the shipyard, they found that the Mercedes had been delivered to them courtesy of the Einzbern maid who'd been driving them, though the maid herself was nowhere to be found. Possibly she'd found some other means of returning to castle on the edge of the city, deep in the woods that apparently had been purchased eons ago by the Einzbern family.

But why would she have left the car here at their disposal, instead of remaining to drive them?

Then Irisviel squealed. "Oooooh! She left it here for us, just us two! I imagine Kiritsugu asked her to do it," she added with a sigh.

Saber frowned as Irisviel ran an oddly affectionate finger over the silver hood of the car. "Why would he do that? That seems rather careless of him. Neither of us know how to get to the Einzbern's castle."

"But there's a…what's it called? Oh yes, a GPS inside that'll tell us how to get there," Irisviel trilled. She was practically dancing as she opened up the front driver's side door. "Hop in, Saber. I'll drive us." She giggled and ducked inside the vehicle.

"Um…okay." Saber felt the need to proceed with caution as she stepped around the front of the car and got inside the front passenger's seat. As she shut the door, she was somehow surprised to see the alacrity and ease with which Irisviel stuck the key in the ignition and started up the engine, and then proceeded to operate the GPS.

But the way she kept…well...giving little squeals of delight under her breath made her seem much more like a child than a woman.

"Buckle up, Saber!" Irisviel commanded, after buckling herself in. Then she put her foot on the brake pedal and shifted into DRIVE.

Saber had barely snapped the buckle in when Irisviel hit the gas with such enthusiastic force that the King of Knights felt her insides thrown forward while her external body was thrown backward hard against the seat. Somehow.

Instinctively she groped for something to hang onto, and managed to find a handle at the roof of the car, just above her window.

Irisviel meanwhile shouted with glee as she turned every corner as hard as she could in making their way out of the maze of shipping containers onto the main road.

How they managed to survive their trip through the backstreets of Fuyuki onto the mountain road that would take them to Einzbern castle, Saber couldn't fathom, as it seemed to her that they came face-to-face with oncoming traffic lights more than once. But Irisviel sidestepped every obstacle that came their way, weaving in and out of traffic and miraculously not drawing the attention of the authorities, squealing with exuberance all the way.

Up on the mountain road, where they were the only ones out driving on it, Irisviel went even more unrestrained with the wheel, turning it over and over back and forth in wide rotations, Saber sprawled back against her seat and clinging for dear life, teeth grit, well aware that if they crashed, then the airbags deploying them might not be enough to save their bones from getting crushed.

"Isn't this amazing?!" Irisviel exclaimed, clearly under the impression that Saber was having as much fun as she was.

"Heh, heh, yeah, sure," Saber said, giving her a nervous smile and trying not to sound faint of heart. _Come on, you're the King of Knights, for God's sake! There's no reason you can't handle this, even if things do go south._

"Of all the toys Kiritsugu's bought me over the years, this one's my favorite!" Irisviel gushed, which then explained why Kiritsugu would have it so Irisviel could drive the rest of the way to the castle—he knew she enjoyed the act of driving, terrible as she was at it (though undoubtedly he'd had this in mind, given how short a distance Einzbern castle actually was from where they'd started out in the shipyard).

This raised another question though, and a perplexed Saber couldn't help but ask, "This is a… _toy_?" Last she was given to understand, full size cars were anything _but_ toys. Irisviel referring to it as such exposed an strange facet of her and Kiritsugu's relationship.

At which point, she tried to recommend that they hire a professional driver.

"But that would be boring—I mean dangerous," Irisviel hastened to correct herself. "If we were to be attacked and a party outside the Grail War were to be killed as a result."

"Well…I suppose you make a fair point," Saber admitted, before suddenly spotting an obstacle in their path. A person. Reacting instinctively, she commanded Irisviel stop the car, already reaching over with her foot to hit the brake pedal and wrest control of the steering wheel from her charge.

They skidded to a halt.

The headlights cast their beams of light on the one who blocked their path, their presence giving off a dangerous aura.

"This man…is a Servant," Saber muttered under her breath. Snapping to action, she shifted the car into PARK and then disembarked, stepping around it to confront the enemy before them.

Caster, if she wasn't mistaken.

The ghastly man towered over Saber's short stature, cloaked in violet with the strangest style of flamboyant ruff about this neck. But that wasn't what disturbed Saber: it was the eyes. There was something not quite right about them, beyond how grossly protuberant they were…like a frog's eyes. The way he smiled with those eyes, it was enough to chill even the bravest person's blood.

"Greetings, Holy Virgin." Even his voice was unnervingly ghastly, a strange falsetto that bordered on madness.

Saber was taken aback. "Pardon me?"

"My dear Jeanne, at last you and I can be together once again." He reached out for her.

"Who is Jeanne? I have no idea what you're talking about." Saber put a hand on her hip, a natural reflex from her former life when she'd ready herself to draw her sword.

Caster took a step back, looking stricken. "Do you mean to say…you do not recognize me?"

"Saber, who is this? Do you know him?" Irisviel had appeared at Saber's side.

"I have no idea, I've never seen him in my life," said Saber, never taking her eyes away from the enemy.

Caster quickly became distraught, losing his smile as he grabbed his head in his hands and gave a cry. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! _No_! What tragedy, what cruel twist of fate! You've been brought back to life by the power of the Grail but lost all your memories! What sorrowfulness to have befallen you, Jeanne!"

"Enough!" Saber snapped.

"No!" Caster dropped to his knees and pounded the ground with his fist, throwing a fit. "No, it was my prayer! My Holy Grail that brought her back to life!"

"Stop it! You embarrass yourself!"

But Caster went on wailing like a lunatic, forcing Saber to summon Excalibur and point it at his throat, which was enough to make him freeze.

"Be warned," Saber told him icily, "next time, I will not hesitate to strike."

Caster stared at her, and then he sighed and closed his eyes a moment before standing and straightening up.

"I see now. I will have to find a way to restore your memories to you, my dear Jeanne. Rest assured, I will see to it that you and I are truly reunited as one once more." And then he vanished into Spirit Form, fleeing.

Saber sighed and retracted Excalibur.

Irisviel leaned against the car with her arms folded. "It's irritating to have someone who insists on not listening to you."

"His type repulse me," Saber grouched, glaring at the spot in the road Caster had previously occupied. He had come so close to pawing at her like a lecher.

 _And he was thick with the scent of blood._

 _Young blood._

 _The blood of children._

Saber bristled.

Even as Irisviel went back to driving, she reigned in her erratic style, though that could be because she'd become subdued and didn't seem to have the same zeal she had before.

"I'm sorry about that, Saber," she said as she took her turns more gently (though she still took them unnecessarily).

"Don't worry about it," said Saber, sad to see Irisviel's spirit so dampened but admittedly glad that it resulted in her not driving so wildly. "I must admit that this brings to mind another advantage to having been raised as a boy: I didn't have to worry about the unwanted attentions of madmen like that. If I'm to be completely honest, that was rather difficult to handle, I'm a bit of a novice when it comes to handling things like that. You'd think I'd be better at it, given I can handle a sword just fine, but swords and…mmm…fending off social indiscretions don't exactly mix."

"Oh Saber…." Irisviel gave her companion a very sympathetic smile. "I think you handled yourself very well. Much better than I can say I would've."

Saber regarded her with interest. "You've had to suffer the unwanted attentions of a lunatic?"

"Well, not a lunatic, but a man, yes. One of my…ah…cousins."

"One of your…cousins?"

"There's…quite a bit of inbreeding in the Einzbern family. Grandfather laments that that's why the bloodline's thinning but…he's the only one who…goes on living decade after decade, century after century."

"You mean…he's…immortal?"

"I'm not sure exactly. He can be killed. I think it's more he…refuses to die. Until he achieves the dream of the Einzbern."

"The Grail."

"Yes. But…." Irisviel's voice took on a more steely tone as she narrowed her eyes at the road ahead. "Kiritsugu and I intend to make our own wish."

"To bring the world salvation," said Saber, remembering.

"Yes."

Something about the conviction in Irisviel warmed Saber to her all the more. It gave her a kind of thrill to think of Irisviel defying her family for a dream she and her husband shared, and for a noble dream at that. It echoed that sense of a deeper bond between her and Kiritsugu as a couple.

Irisviel cleared her throat. "But back to my story about my cousin forcing himself on me. Let's just say that all I could manage was to flatten myself against the wall behind me, though I did give him the most hellish glare I could muster."

Saber chuckled. "How did you get out of it?"

"Kiritsugu _swooped_ in and saved me!" Irisviel used a dramatically breathless voice here, and on the word "swooped" she did an audaciously wide turn with the car that nearly sent them into a tailspin into the guard rails along the edge that served as the only barrier between one's car and falling off the mountain.

Saber gave a yell and scrabbled for that handle she'd hung onto earlier, forced to clench her teeth the rest of the way even as her mind tried to fathom the idea of Kiritsugu coming in like some gallant and chivalric gentleman to defend a lady's maiden purity, as Irisviel crowed with laughter all the rest of the way up to Einzbern castle.

In the end she came to the conclusion that it wasn't far off the mark for him to have done something like that for a woman he'd come to love and marry. He probably just didn't do it with any kind of unnecessary flair, none of that pretty sonnet recitation and the like.

For Kiritsugu, it seemed, actions spoke far louder than words.

However frosty things seemed to be between them thus far, she had to admit that she had to respect his decidedly utilitarian approach to things.

* * *

Up at the castle, Saber jumped out of the car as quick as she could, but that didn't stop her legs from turning to jelly. She had to grab the edge of her open door to steady herself before she could go on.

How unseemly.

"Ooh, wasn't that fun, Saber?" Irisviel chirped as she too got out.

"Heh. Thrilling," Saber managed.

Luckily she was able to master herself quickly enough to shut the door and follow Irisviel up the steps to the oaken front doors.

Inside the foyer, they were greeted by the maids who had accompanied them on the plane. Irisviel left the keys to the car with one of them, asking after the whereabouts of her husband as she took her coat and hat as well.

"Master Kiritsugu has not yet returned, madam." The maid bobbed a curtsy.

Irisviel looked seriously over her shoulder at Saber. "He must have gone after another Servant."

Saber frowned as the maids took their leave to let the two of them climb the main staircase and with the purpose of seeking a brief respite. "On his own?"

"No, Maiya's with him," Irisviel told her. "His assistant." Something dark flickered in her red eyes for a moment, but then was gone, like a dark bird fluttering through an empty church.

"I mean that… _I'm_ not there," said Saber, more quietly.

"Oh, well, you're with _me_ ," Irisviel pointed out, and then reached for Saber's hand, clasping it in her own.

Saber sensed it trembled a little, but said nothing about it. "Well, he's certainly demonstrated his dedication to this fight. Going right after another Servant without so much as a break. I had many days like that…battles that lasted for more than one moonrise…times when I wouldn't sleep for over eight and forty hours. But war can be a restless beast."

"Hm." Irisviel smiled at her again, but Saber thought it looked a bit…wan. Then she looked away. "I have a feeling…part of him…wants this over as quickly as possible. I mean…he's always very keen on efficiency." This time it was her voice that trembled a little.

But again, Saber made no comment on it. Instead, as they reached the top of the stairs, she said, "I'm sure he misses your daughter."

Irisviel squeezed Saber's hand a bit tighter.

Saber, instinctively, squeezed back.

 _And you miss her as well. Of course you do._

"Yes," Irisviel finally said, rather hoarsely. She squeezed her hand even tighter. "Did you know…Saber…that…Caster…?" She closed her eyes and swallowed before she continued. "That Caster and his Master have been…abducting children and…killing them?"

Saber lowered her green eyes to the floor. "I smelled…blood on him, when we confronted him in the road."

"They're so young," Irisviel whispered. "No older than my daughter."

Saber took Irisviel's pressing hand in both of hers. "We'll meet him in battle and stop him. I'll see to it. Irisviel."

Irisviel looked at her. She blinked rapidly and then looked down the hall to a row of bedrooms. She pulled away from Saber's grasp. "I think I'll go rest for a bit…I'm a bit tired…. I think that… _jet lag_ is catching up with me." She laughed, but it wasn't all that hearty.

"Of course." Saber followed, and, seeing which room Irisviel ultimately chose to lay down in, posted herself just outside its closed door, standing guard.

Left to rest for a moment, Saber took the time to peel back the black gloves she'd been given on her left hand and run the index finger of her other hand along the scar that was all that was left of the cursed blow dealt by Lancer's spear. Experimentally she twitched a couple of her left-hand fingers, and still felt where it went numb, where she couldn't move with the same freedom and fluidity.

And if she couldn't fully grip Excalibur's hilt with both hands, then using her Noble Phantasm to its fullest capacity was out of the question for the time being. Not until she defeated Lancer.

Heaving a sigh she tugged her glove back on, trying to think how she would be able to make do with what resources she still had left to her.

* * *

When Kiritsugu arrived at the castle with his assistant Maiya, a young woman with short dark hair dressed smartly in black, much like Saber was (though Maiya's clothes seemed to form-fit almost like a military uniform complete with high collar), it was a little past midnight. But rather than sleep, the man immediately called for a meeting with his wife. That Saber should accompany her was implied, but not explicitly said. Nevertheless, he didn't protest when she entered the room behind Irisviel.

In fact, he didn't acknowledge her in the slightest, but Saber let it slide for the time being. Better that than be outright excluded from the proceedings.

Actually, her mind was stirring with more curiosity, as she reflected on what Irisviel had said when she'd woken her a few minutes before now at being summoned to the conference room.

 _"_ _Kiritsugu…is here?" Irisviel sounded a little confused._

 _"_ _Yes. You_ were _expecting him, weren't you?" Saber held out a hand to help Irisviel up when she still seemed groggy._

 _But Irisviel blinked then and turned wide awake, perking up a bit. "Well, we'd discussed making as little contact as possible. As a precaution, with me being the proxy Master. After all, it would be suspicious if any of the other Masters were to catch us conspiring together." Even so, there was a blush to her cheeks that hadn't been there before, and she seemed less listless than she had when she'd gone to sleep._

Maybe that explained why Irisviel had become so subdued all of a sudden. True, she really must have been tired, and the thought of those cases of missing and dead children weighed heavy on her mind as well, naturally, but when Saber considered that she might've also been like a plant lacking sunlight with her husband absent, bearing in mind that the two of them had already discussed seeing little if any of each other throughout the duration of this war, it wasn't any wonder she'd been like that. And, sure enough, when Irisviel and Kiritsugu saw each other, Irisviel seemed much more like a plant regaining vitality when it's been put back in the sunlight.

Though by now Saber was hardly surprised that Kiritsugu only gave his wife the merest of half-smiles in greeting—sincere to be sure, but fleeting—before turning back to the various maps, charts, and documents spread out on the long wooden table.

As Kiritsugu and Irisviel proceeded to pore over these, standing across the table from each other, Saber stood by just behind Irisviel, noticing that Maiya took a place opposite her behind Kiritsugu. The way she stood attention furthered Saber's theory that Maiya had a very militaristic record.

"This is where we hit them." Kiritsugu tapped his fingers on a place on the map. "The Fuyuki Hyatt."

"How?" Irisviel asked.

"Explosives."

Saber meanwhile regarded her Master with a frown. Something prickled in her at the way he had recounted the way in which he had chosen to deal with their enemy: he had seen fit to simply slay Lancer and his Master using underhanded means? Behind her back? When she and Lancer had sworn to finish their duel honorably?

It was no less irksome than when she'd seen him prepared to snipe Lancer's Master back during their battle in the shipping yard.

She had wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt, but now…if this was how things were really going to go, she wasn't sure she could stand idly by and let him get away with this. She clenched her jaw as her ire caught fire.

Meanwhile, after Kiritsugu and Irisviel took a moment to go over the likely places in Fuyuki where the Grail would appear, Irisviel confirmed that with the curse on Saber's wrist not lifted, Lancer and his Master Kayneth were indeed still alive. Irisviel suggested that they launch an attack on Lancer then, but Kiritsugu dismissed the idea, saying that with the Church having proposed rewarding any Master who could take down Caster with a brand new Command Seal, his thinking was that he could take out each Master and Servant pair one by one as they were all drawn into duking it out over who took out Caster.

More than that, but seeing as how Caster was under the delusion that Saber's identity was that of an old flame, the heroine Jeanne d'Arc, all they had to do was wait for Caster and the rest of them to come to them. With these conditions it would be all but too easy for Kiritsugu to strike from the shadows.

Saber, for her part, had heard enough. There was a growing buzzing in her brain that was briefly clouding her thinking, and the words were coming out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Master…I cannot approve of this. For you to condone and employ such underhanded methods…it is an insult to Heroic Spirits. A nobler course of action would be to confront our enemies with dignity, particularly where someone as undignified as Caster is concerned! At the very least so that we might prevent the deaths of more innocent children…."

That tucked away maternal part of her flared up at the thought, and remembering the way Irisviel had nearly cried at the thought of those children.

She clenched her fists, and if not for the gloves, she probably would've drawn blood from her palms with her nails.

Saber couldn't remember the last time she'd been so passionately angry, ready to punch something, break something, scream. It had been one of the best things about pretending to be a man, she had been allowed to lose control now and then, kick at things, vent her frustration in the training and exercise yard in Sir Ector's castle. As a lady, she would've been expected to bottle everything up, and the very idea of such a thing felt impossible, for surely she would've exploded in very literal terms otherwise.

"Why do you not allow me to go out and fight? Could it be that you don't trust me, your own Servant?"

Yet, for all of her impassioned pronouncements, Kiritsugu simply closed his eyes, saying not a word. Completely ignoring her.

Saber ground her teeth.

 _Look at me, damn it! Say something!_

Truly, how _could_ he? How could he toss aside the lives of innocent children like that, as though they were nothing more than peanuts? Peanuts, whose weight he was measuring against…what? Something.

The worst of it was her mind was trying to reconcile the man who had laughed so sincerely with his daughter, embracing her so tenderly, with this cold, unfeeling man here. Many of those children were his daughter's age! Would he have still cast them all aside if she had been among them? There was a part of Saber that feared he just might.

Looking at Irisviel, she felt she was thinking about something similar, thinking of her daughter, and how she was just like those children, children who had mothers of their own, and what she would do if her daughter was among them. Saber had no doubt in her mind that she would protest whatever her husband said. But would her husband concede for her sake, and her sake alone?

And yet…Irisviel said nothing. She gave Kiritsugu a helpless look, but that was it. She seemed curiously conflicted in fact, which suggested to Saber that there was something between Irisviel and Kiritsugu, something indicating that this wasn't a foreign subject to them. Perhaps they had already spoken of such things coming up, how they should react to them. Which again strangely reinforced that inexplicable and bonding sense of intimacy between them.

Then Irisviel said, with a rather pleading note in her voice to her husband, "But the Church has called a ceasefire between all Masters and Servants save for Caster—"

Kiritsugu opened his eyes at last, but only to address his wife. "Ignore that," he said with sharp authority.

"But Kiritsugu…" Irisviel tried again.

"It'll be fine, Iri," Kiritsugu told her. He even sounded softer. More human.

It was that more than anything that finally got Saber to relax and stand down.

Even so…she still couldn't look at him. It was bad enough that the mere fact that this man was her Master was enough to overwhelm her with shame.

 _How can this possibly work? I can't abide by his way of doing things. I'd sooner sully Excalibur's blade with clay than let my pride and honor as a knight be marred by going along with this sort of backhanded strategizing._

Distantly she heard the rustle of the maps, charts, and documents being gathered together, and when she looked up, Saber saw Kiritsugu sweep from the room with Maiya walking obediently behind him.

Irisviel meanwhile sank into a chair at the table with a sigh, massaging one of her temples absently. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.

Saber, sympathetic, decided not to let Irisviel see how much it bothered her. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." Other than that though, she couldn't think of much else to say.

But then Irisviel lifted her head and contemplated the door Kiritsugu and Maiya had exited through, and got a very melancholy look on her face. "I think I know what it is," she said, sounding desolate and pitying. She got up from the chair and walked around the table to the door.

"Are you going to go talk to him?" Saber couldn't help asking.

Irisviel paused at the door and gave Saber that same wan smile she'd worn earlier. "Yes. If only for a moment." She paused, and then added, sadly, "It wears on him, I'm sure, to be that cruel when that isn't what he's really like."

Truth be told, Saber was too dumbstruck by this statement to respond, and could only stare at her lady charge as she too swept from the room, seeking out her husband with her soft and gentle supplications.

"What he's really like?" Saber murmured to herself, leaning back against the wall with her arms folded, staring off at a spot on the carpet but not really seeing it. Instead, she saw that man as he laughed and played with his and Irisviel's daughter. "The mystery of a mercenary's heart."

Well, he was still her Master. She wouldn't betray him, not even out of spite. Instead, putting her faith in Irisviel's words, that at least her and his goals were relatively the same, and equal in nobility, she would resolve to hold out hope that that faith would be rewarded in the end.


	5. Sins of the Monster

**Chapter Five**

 **Sins of the Monster**

Saber needed a minute to think. She pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she opened them and looked up at the sound of shoes whispering over carpet and the clunk of something heavy dropping on the meeting room table.

Maiya had dragged in two large cases, which, admittedly, Saber was surprised she was able to lift, given how petite Maiya was. But then, _she_ was pretty petite herself, and she'd built herself up nearly her entire life. There were even times when, in rare moments confronted with her naked reflection, she'd blush at the manly bulk of her arms and shoulders.

She was about to ask out of courtesy if Maiya wanted a hand, but like with the first case, Maiya managed to hoist up the case in her other hand and set that on the table with a thunk as well. But she caught Saber's eye, and inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Saber."

"Um."

Saber watched as Maiya snapped open both cases to reveal their contents. Out of curiosity, she drew closer to the table to have a better look, confronted with two different models of modern weaponry, both of them recognizably guns.

Maiya picked up the smaller of the two and started pulling various parts snuggled in around the main frame of the weapon in the case, which she proceeded to snap onto the frame in succession with expert efficiency.

Saber couldn't help admiring the fluidity and assuredness of Maiya's hands as she assembled the pieces that would make the gun complete. She was even able to heft it with one hand, the butt of it cradled perfectly into the perpendicular crook of her elbow, her fingers resting aside of the trigger, while she used her free hand to pluck out a curved magazine from a zippered side-pocket. This she snapped on behind the trigger and then lifted the weapon so she could peer through the scope, aiming as if she was really about to snipe someone with it.

Her scope swept around the room and rested on Saber.

Saber didn't flinch, even with the barrel of the gun staring her down. And with her one peering eye, her other squeezed shut, Maiya was looking back at her. Then she lifted her head and lowered the gun, watching Saber with both eyes, and somehow they were even darker and flatter in their lack of emotion than Kiritsugu's usually seemed to be.

And yet….

"Maiya: may I see that?" Saber asked seriously.

Maiya's eyes flicked from the gun in her hands to Saber. Then, wordlessly, she held it out. Saber reached across the table for it and took hold of it, handling it just like she'd seen Maiya do. Even as it was the first time she'd held a gun, her whole life handling nothing but swords, she took to this as if she'd been trained on guns instead of swords, thanks in no small part to the flood of information about the modern era that had poured into her brain when she'd been summoned by the power of the Grail.

The King of Knights clasped the gun securely to her chest as she examined it. There was a cold and precise beauty to it, she had to admit, even if it had perfected the art of sneak-killing. Just what an apprentice of Kiritsugu Emiya would be trained in, she supposed.

"It's a Steyr AUG assault rifle," Maiya told her without preamble, in a voice that was not entirely toneless—there was something dark underneath it, like deep, cold ocean water. She had another curved magazine in her hand, this one empty. She'd produced a box of bullets and was now feeding them one by one into the clip.

At the sound of Maiya's voice, Saber, as she'd taken a moment to peer through the scope herself, viewing her surroundings briefly through the crosshairs, lowered the weapon and looked at her. She'd sensed the young woman hesitate, and saw her pause in filling the clip in her hand.

And then Maiya said: "Kiritsugu thought it would be best if I were armed with something light and unencumbering." She paused again. "Not that I haven't handled heavier guns before, but I can't say it ever made it easy for me to move very fast. And anyway…he's the better sniper." She sounded almost disappointed by that last observation.

Then Saber noticed the other gun in the other case. It was definitely bigger, and the immense handle of wood suggested it had to weigh considerably more than the Steyr AUG meant for Maiya's use. Was that the gun Kiritsugu had been aiming with at the shipyard to pick off unsuspecting enemies?

"That one didn't come cheap," Maiya informed her, noticing Saber looking, and the corner of her mouth actually twitched—the ghost of a smile that was killed dead long ago. Saber could see that, somehow. It reminded her a little of herself actually.

Perhaps that was why she found herself keen to keep speaking with Maiya, this woman who had been Kiritsugu's partner in killing from the shadows. Irisviel for her part, seemed to think of her with a twinge, as though the idea of her husband and his professional partner working together made her envious.

"What makes it so dear in price?" Saber asked.

"It's called a Walther, and there were only one-hundred and seventy-six made in the whole world. Not exactly something that was ever mass-marketed. But the Einzberns saw to it that Kiritsugu got the best equipment possible, money being no object of course."

"Clearly."

The idea was something that Saber carefully considered. That Kiritsugu had persuaded Irisviel's family to obtain such priceless pieces of weaponry…if it wasn't plain before, it was certainly plain now: Kiritsugu Emiya was nothing if not passionately determined. Saber had to admire that. She supposed she had been much the same, in every battle she'd fought, bitterly hell-bent on doing whatever it took short of the sheer impossible and miraculous (and even then, given Merlin's powers) to obtain victory for Briton. In those moments, she had been a ferocious beast worthy of the blood and the namesake of that which was Pendragon—or "chief dragon" as it was when broken down into original Middle Welsh, _Pen Draig_ …

Saber actually felt it rise up now, ferally, lifting up its head and sniffing the air, its serpentine eyes bright red, as she peered again into the scope of the Steyr AUG assault rifle and aimed at the opposite wall. Then the feral feeling expanded painfully in her chest, and she swallowed hard, lowering the gun and setting it carefully down on the table. The moment she withdrew her touch from the weapon, she felt easier. But the beast still stirred, thirsting for blood.

"Saber?" Maiya had tilted her head to one side and was watching Saber the way a cat might, curious without any real interest behind it. Until something flickered there, as though she'd caught a glimpse of the red gleam of the serpentine eyes peering out of Saber's green ones.

Saber folded her arms and addressed Maiya very directly. "Maiya…forgive me if this is forward of me but…you've known Kiritsugu a long time, yes?"

"Since he found me on a battlefield fighting as a child soldier in my old country's army." Maiya reached over and took back the Steyr AUG assault rifle, tucking it under her arm and tucking the extra clip she'd just filled onto her person. She spoke of it as though it were nothing.

The empty, nonchalance of acceptance of something so horrible.

"He rescued you?" Saber wanted to know, something inside of her quickening. Hoping that that were the case, because if it was, then it put Kiritsugu, in Saber's eyes, closer to the man who had laughed while playing in the snow with his little daughter.

"Some might say that he did," said Maiya without inflection, cocking the rifle and peering through the scope again, giving it one last check. No stranger to giving thorough inspections to her equipment, as though she ate and breathed that sort of thing, as though it were the only thing she really knew to do with her downtime.

"What do _you_ say he did?" Saber probed quietly.

Maiya paused again and lifted her head and lowered the gun, fixing her gaze with Saber's, and it was sobering to say the least.

But before she could answer, something shivered inside Saber as she sensed the creeping aura of what could only be the approach of another Servant—and she had a chilling suspicion who. The women's time together was broken by the sounds of footsteps fast approaching the room. Then Irisviel and Kiritsugu appeared, Irisviel carrying a crystal ball with immense care, Kiritsugu toting another heavy case.

"Maiya," he said at once, not even sounding out of breath as he set the third case on the table next to the one with the Walther in it. "Change of plan. We don't have to time to set up the Walther on the battlements." His voice was dented with just the faintest hint of regret: like he'd had that in mind, and now couldn't because something had come up and he'd spent the lull of peace they'd had doing something else and now he wished he'd spent that time setting up the Walther instead.

"An enemy's here?" Maiya hefted the Steyr AUG, pressing it against her chest, completely at attention. Like a soldier.

Kiritsugu snapped open the case he'd brought in, and lifted out another gun, this one bulkier than the Steyr AUG but definitely didn't look anywhere near as weighty as the Walther. Actually, it appeared to be another sidearm, just a bigger one. "Approaching from the forest. Iri sensed it." He glanced over at his wife, who had placed the crystal ball on the table and was now seating herself before it so she could peer inside to get a visual of the intruder.

Saber went over and peered over Iri's shoulder as she waved her hands over the crystal ball, conjuring an image that confirmed her worst suspicions:

Caster moving through the dark Einzbern forest. And it looked as though he had hostages with him, judging by the blank expressions of the children surrounding him, as though he were controlling them like puppets.

Saber cursed under her breath. "I'll have to do what I can to save them," she muttered, her mind working.

And then, somehow, Caster looked straight at them, as though the remote viewing crystal ball were nothing more than a camera hooked up to one of the trees.

"He knows we're watching him!" Irisviel gasped.

Caster grinned, the expression unsettling, made all the more so when he reached over and grabbed one of the children by his head—

"No don't!" Saber cried, as if he could hear them too—

But Caster crushed the child's skull with one squeeze, blood and brain spattering. He tossed the body of the first child aside as the other kids, jerked out of their trance, scattered away scared as they cried out at the horror of what had just happened right in front of them.

"Now then, my dear Jeanne," he beckoned in a sing-song voice, "if you wish to save the rest of these innocents, why don't you show yourself and join us out here in the moonlight?"

Saber balled her hands into fists, her blood rising to a boil, and yet she could do nothing until she was ordered to, to act as she saw fit.

Irisviel gave her husband a pleading look, and Saber couldn't blame her. She'd moaned as though it'd physically hurt to see that first child get murdered so vilely, no doubt thinking of her own daughter.

As for Kiritsugu, he was predictably difficult to read, though that didn't make Saber any less frustrated with him, some of her vexation from earlier fueling the rage crying out in the form of the same draconian beast inside her that bayed for blood. Yet the man seemed to avert his gaze, and the best Saber could guess at was that despite his clear resolve not to act to save the lives of the children, he too might be thinking of his and Irisviel's daughter.

Irisviel on the other hand must've read something else, because she turned fiercely to Saber then and commanded, "Saber! Go to the forest and defeat Caster now!"

Saber didn't need telling twice, and she'd be damned if she was going to wait for Kiritsugu to argue the point. "Right!"

Even so, at the door, she did pause just for a moment to see Kiritsugu's reaction, but he was back to loading his gun with mechanical speed.

Still, she chose to believe that he must have been thinking of that sweet little girl. However Maiya might see it, to Saber, what Kiritsugu had done for her had been a rescue, even if she did still fight for a living. It was the only thing that could connect the kind of life Kiritsugu led with the man who had laughed while playing with his child in the winter woods.

Out in the dark forest, a thick mist had seeped in, obscuring Saber's ability to discern shapes in the distance. But she could follow where she felt Caster's presence, and as she dashed through the trees, she donned her armor on the fly.

She followed her senses deep into the heart of the forest, darting towards it and hefting Excalibur, ready to strike—only to stop dead.

Caster stood alone, surrounded by the bodies of every child he'd been holding hostage, save one, which he held by the head in his large clawed hand, primed to crush his skull in like he'd done with the first child.

Saber's mouth went dry. She'd been too late. He'd slaughtered them all.

Her stomach twisted at the sight. Even after all the death and blood she had seen in her life, when it came to dead children, it reached something maternal inside her…and she thought guiltily of Mordred again, which only intensified the twisting in her stomach.

She ground her teeth as Caster smiled as pleasantly as if he were inviting her to tea, the beast of rage rearing its savage head and tearing at her heart.

"Welcome, fair Jeanne! How do you like this horrible sight? Does it not _pain_ you?" The fiend was petting the head of the one child, a boy, still left alive with his claw-like hand. "Do you despise me Jeanne?" he asked, sounding almost as if he were really sorry for it. Then he sighed and went on: "Yes I'm sure you must. I'm certain you'll never forgive me for turning from God's love."

There he was again, mistaking her for Jeanne d'Arc. Lunatic.

Saber lifted her sword and growled, "Unhand the child…monster!"

"Jeanne, if you dearly wish to save the boy…." Caster relinquished his hold on the child, turning giddy. "My dear child, you should rejoice! God's devout messenger says that she will save you from the fate of your departed friends!"

The boy gave a hysterical cry and broke into a sprint towards Saber, clinging to her armor as if she were his mother as he sobbed.

Saber thought of Mordred again, but instead of regret, something soft and maternally protective settled inside of her, and she stroked back the child's hair as a means to comfort him as she spoke to him in a gentle, reassuring voice.

"It's dangerous here. If you run and follow this path, you'll find a castle—"

Without warning a horrid, tentacled… _thing_ burst from the boy's back, casting off its guise of a child as though it were merely casting off a shirt. In her moment of shock, the creature wrapped its tentacles around her and bound her tightly within them, squeezing as if to crush the life out of her, while all around the bodies of the other children burst into clones of the same creature.

For a lesser person, the spectacle would've driven them insane. For Saber, once the initial shock had worn off, she felt nothing but pure rage for the monster grinning at her as she struggled.

"Do you not remember what I told you?" Caster crowed delightedly. "I told you that the next time we would meet, I would be prepared for you…."

Saber felt one of the tentacles reach over and touch her cheek, leaving the warm, wet sensation of blood behind.

She didn't really care.

"Very well. Then my fight with you…is no longer over the Grail!"

Unleashing a radiant burst of magic, she broke free of the tentacles that bound her, blowing them to bloody, gory chunks. Then she raised her sword, eager to cut the rest of these foul things to ribbons.

"Caster! I raise my sword solely to defeat you!"

With abandon she leapt into the tangle of tentacles vying to grasp her, slashing at them left and right with her blade, slicing them into explosions of blood. But more and more of them just kept coming, as if Caster were calling upon a legion of them.

 _If only I could use my left hand._

She felt again that gnarled little beast inside her again, one that she had begun to sense within her since she'd first stepped onto a battlefield and saw real war. That moment, she had responded to her rise in adrenaline at first with trepidation, and then something had transformed that into bloodlust when she'd made her first kill. She had to put on a brave face for her troops, but that had proved to be hardly a challenge once she'd tasted blood.

The savagery coming back to her echoed what she'd begun to feel as she'd held that gun of Maiya's, and she lifted her blade at a slant, giving Caster the kind of grin that she felt only a lioness about to pounce could give.

Caster gave a wild shriek and summoned more of his echinoderm monstrosities, all of them popping up from the corpses of those Saber had slain.

And they came at her again, only to burs apart in rays of golden light.

Another Servant had swept in like an untameable wind, slicing through the oncoming horde. Saber hesitated, staring at none other than Lancer as he stood in front of her, facing off against Caster, pointing his lances at him.

"Now hear this, Caster: it will be _my_ lance, and _my_ lance alone that will defeat Saber!" he declared.

Caster's giddiness turned sour at Lancer's intrusion. And he gave another wild yell and tore and clawed at his hair. " _You_! Who are _you_?! And who gave you leave to intrude upon our private affair?!"

Lancer chuckled. "Listen, Caster, I am _not_ going to comment on your bizarre notion of romance. But I made a vow, upon my honor, that _I_ would be the one to take Saber's life!"

Saber peered at him from behind, a bit awestruck. "You…came…to help…?"

Lancer threw a grin over his shoulder at her. "Don't misunderstand: I'm here on orders from my Master to find and defeat Caster. But I'm more than happy to get you out of a tight spot while I'm at it."

"Ha!" Saber tossed back her head and held her sword back up at the ready. "Just so we're clear, Lancer: right now, I could take on a hundred of these things."

"Oh I don't doubt that," said Lancer sincerely.

Saber could've sworn he was teasing her. Even so, she had to admit that she relished the sense of camaraderie between them as the two of them plunged into the violent frenzy of echinoderms, Caster madly screaming that Lancer was a savage.

It became very clear however that it was meaningless trying to cut these creatures down when more kept popping up. No less, Lancer observed that there was no honor in it, to which Saber wholly agreed.

"That grimoire." Saber pointed out the book Caster had cradled in his arms, giving off a strong aura of ill-intent. "I believe that is the source of his mana."

"If only we could get to it." Lancer stroked his chin, his golden eyes turning almost feral in their thoughtfulness. Then he said, "I think I can strike it, if I can get in close enough."

"Not while these beasts are in the way." Saber hefted her sword and gave Lancer a confident smirk. Maybe even a flirtatious one, just because. Even if it was just a side-effect of the cursed beauty mark on his cheek. "Allow me to clear a path for you."

Lancer glanced over at her and smiled, perhaps just a little bit as in awe as he had been when he'd figured out her identity. "Very well. They're all yours."

"Excellent." Saber set her teeth, and Lancer stepped back as she gathered up the mana Kiritsugu supplied her with, concentrating all into her blade, which she maintained in invisibility with the invisible air. If she had the use of her left hand, she'd be able to unleash the full power of Excalibur. On the other hand, for something on this small a scale, she didn't need to. She just needed enough to cut away a large chunk of the creatures' numbers.

She leveled the tip of the blade horizontally, aiming straight at the ranting and raving Caster, and then, releasing her mana, cried out, " _Strike…air_!"

She released a burst of silver, which blasted through the ranks of the skulking tentacle nightmares and created a large enough gap, many of them exploding all at once in bursts of blood.

Caster could only gape as Lancer seized his chance and leapt, shouting, " _Gáe…Dearg_!"

The tip of the red spear struck the grimoire, and then the moment held its breath before the rest of Caster's creatures burst into showers of blood like the ones Saber had just slain. She stood within that thick shower, and lifted her green eyes to her true enemy in this fight, daring the madman with her piercing glare to come at her again.

Wailing, Caster swore vengeance, and before Saber or Lancer could get to him, he fled, disappearing as if into thin air.

Saber regarded the place where he'd disappeared from with disdain. "Disgusting," she muttered, the air heavy with a red mist of blood. Then she noticed Lancer had gone solemnly quiet. "Lancer?"

Lancer looked up at her, his brow furrowed in anxiety. "It's my Master. He is in danger. It seems he decided to break into the castle, and engage your Master on his own terms while you and I were fighting."

Saber frowned, her ire from earlier kicked up again at the dishonorability that both their Masters appeared to share. Perhaps as an act of defiance, or at least the only kind of defiance she could live with putting up in her own way, she said, "Go to him, Lancer. It would not do if you and I were not able to finish our duel from earlier in a chivalric manner."

Lancer was stunned into gratitude. "Are you certain? You would allow me so close to _your_ Master when you are so far away?"

"Heh." Saber's laugh was bitter and mirthless. "He doesn't need me."

"Doesn't…need you…?"

"Never mind, it doesn't matter. Anyway, I know you would not use this opportunity to cheat against me. You have more than demonstrated your sense of honor. You have shown your quality, sir: the very highest."

Lancer turned almost sheepish. Maybe even more than that. Maybe guilty. "Thank you. I'm glad you at least think so." Then he smiled graciously. "King of Knights, you are truly worthy of your name. I will not forget this."

And then, with a shimmer of mana, he was gone.

Alone again, Saber clenched her hands into fists. "So…this was your plan all along, was it, Kiritsugu?" she muttered.

She intended to confront her Master on her own terms, and turned to go back to the castle on foot. But then something compelled her to go in the opposite direction, and not one to doubt her instincts, she changed course and followed where she felt herself drawn.

It wasn't long until she came to a clearing where she made out two bodies laid out on the grass. One of them was Maiya, face-down and unconscious. Saber knelt beside her and checked her, finding the pulse, but also finding broken ribs and a few other combat injuries.

"Oh Maiya…."

But then she caught sight of the other prone person's silver hair.

"Irisviel!"

Saber leapt up and dashed over, weaker in the knees at the sight of her lady charge looking as though she had been skewered through. Already so much blood was pooling around her, and it showed no sign of stopping.

She felt herself split again, as she fell to her knees beside Irisviel—one half determined in taking steps to save her, the other already given up to the despair that she was going to watch this sweet young woman die, and she powerless to stop it.

"Irisviel," she called, desperate.

Irisviel's eyes fluttered open, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth. Even so, she actually smiled. "Sa…ber…."

Saber touched the side of Irisviel's face. "Hang on…I'm going to call Kiritsugu…."

The despairing half of Saber was already starting to spiral out of control. Whatever anger she harbored towards her Master's actions, however much she disagreed with him, she would not wish upon him the news she would have to bring him now. And if Irisviel's words and her inferences based on her small observations were to be believed, he would be sorely grieved to learn of what had happened to his wife…the thought that she would be bringing him only to give them both the chance to say goodbye…she could hardly bear it….

"Where's Kirei…?" Irisviel muttered. "The person who was just here a minute ago…?"

"He's long gone, as far as I can tell…."

"And what about…Maiya…?"

"She's badly injured, but her wounds are not critical. I'm more worried about you. You've lost so much blood…." Against her will, Saber's voice shook. "If only I'd been here a second faster…."

But Irisviel reached up and laid her hand over the one Saber had laid against her cheek. "No, no. It's okay…." And then her color suddenly seemed more robust than it did a moment beforehand, and her breathing was now no longer weak.

Confused, Saber looked down and saw to her astonishment that the wounds Irisviel had suffered had closed, leaving only the torn fabric of her blouse. There wasn't even the merest trace of a laceration, not even a scar.

Saber sat back, amazed, as Irisviel sat up and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Irisviel…how did you…?"

But Irisviel merely grinned, very much the cheerful young woman Saber had first met. "You see? I told you it was okay." Then she looked past Saber to where Maiya lay and turned serious. "I'd better see what I can do for Maiya though before we get her back to the castle."

Still a little dazed from the sheer miracle of healing magic she had just witnessed, Saber stood and watched in amazement as Irisviel carefully turned Maiya over (she murmured an apology when Maiya gave a grunt of pain) and proceeded to work healing magic of her own on Kiritsugu's assistant.

When she had recovered a little from her shock, Saber watched Irisviel work her magic now with a little admiration, and then looked at Maiya's face as it was still pinched in pain, and recalled what the two of them had been talking about earlier. There could be no doubt in her mind that whatever Maiya thought of what Kiritsugu had done for her, he was, for better or for worse, probably her sole reason for continuing to function as a human being, the only one in the world who gave her purpose. It wasn't any kind of fanatical devotion, just the feeble thread of the only thing she'd been able to hold onto when she'd been plucked from whatever horror that battlefield he'd found her on had been.

Which meant she could no doubt be counted upon to die for Kiritsugu's sake should it be necessary. And if Irisviel's miraculously healed wounds were any indication, her love ran so deep such that she too would do the same, if for different reasons. In fact, Irisviel seemed to regard Maiya with more sympathy now, and not just because she was badly hurt. Their mutual desire to help Kiritsugu in his fight no doubt had formed a small bond between them, in some small way.

Then Saber sensed the approach of another person, but relaxed when she saw it was only Kiritsugu. Their eyes met for a moment, and Kiritsugu's were as sharp as ice, dark as blackest night. Then he came and knelt beside Irisviel and Maiya, speaking to his wife in a low voice, going back to completely ignoring the presence of his Servant.

But Saber became too preoccupied with the ire she felt rising up within her again at the cutting glare Kiritsugu had given her, and repaid him in kind. On their way back to the castle, Kiritsugu carrying Maiya in his arms and Irisviel walking beside him, Saber glared daggers of her own at her Master's back, driving their points in between his shoulder blades. Only once did his eyes seem to drift over his shoulder in her direction, but it was enough to convince Saber that he knew she was giving him a look too livid for words.

Were it not for whatever strange healing powers Irisviel possessed, of all the terrible things that could've happened, his wife probably would've met her end this night most assuredly.

And it would've been, in no small part, Kiritsugu's fault.

* * *

Not long after Maiya was tended to, bandaged and confined to bed in one of the other many bedrooms in the castle, Kiritsugu took off, unconcerned with his working alone. Saber had implored Irisviel on her way out to see Kiritsugu before he left that she convince him of the desperate need to eliminate Caster as quickly as possible, for the sake of all of the innocent children who were being sacrificed to his and his own Master's altar of insanity.

But when Irisviel appeared where Saber was waiting for her on the castle battlements, she looked troubled and disappointed.

"He didn't listen to you," Saber guessed.

Irisviel leaned back against the castle wall with her hands folded under her breasts. Her blouse she had repaired to the best of her ability with a sewing kit she'd uncovered in the castle's kitchen. "No, he did. He always listens. Remember what I said about how people who don't listen make me feel?"

"But you were unsuccessful in convincing him of my side of things."

"Yes, in a manner of speaking. But you must understand, it's not something you can simply _convince_ him of. He's already well aware that it's cruel, what's happening to these children. He's a father after all. It's just that if he has any hope of returning to his daughter, he can't let himself _think_ like a father. Or a husband even. I've never been entirely easy with that side of him, but I've come to understand—at least in part—what drives him to be that way. And it's for things like that that made me fall in love with him."

"I see." Saber turned away, staring out over the battlements and into the silvery-blue night, out the glittering lights of the city of Fuyuki spread at the feet of the mountain, nestled against the coastline.

"Incidentally," Irisviel went on, "he made a very good argument as to why he's actually quite, well, _pissed off_ , actually."

"Oh?" The idea intrigued Saber more than anything else. She ran her hands over the stone of the battlements. "And what would that be?"

"The fact that you allowed Lancer to go and fetch his Master," said Irisviel. "Obviously, Lancer kept whatever promise he probably made to you—or held to whatever promise was implied—and didn't use that opportunity to run Kiritsugu through with his lance, nevertheless…Kiritsugu only thinks in terms of risk. And minimizing that risk. And what you did, to him, was very risky, especially from a cynical perspective. Not an act of betrayal, knowing how _you_ see things. No, instead he considers it at best a poor decision of nobility at its most idiotic, and a worst an act of defiance. Which is saying something since he's a bit of a rogue in the mage world. They don't call him the Mage Killer for nothing, after all."

"Irisviel…."

"The way he sees it…letting something like this Caster business hamper any kind of more effective strategy of reaching the Grail is nothing short of losing sight of that very same goal, one he's poured his heart and soul into for nearly a decade, as a means to achieve a dream he's worked toward practically his entirely life. He's dedicated to it with every fiber of his being. To him…a handful of children he could save is nothing compared to the population of the entire planet. That is why…as I said before…he can't afford to think like a husband and father in this game. He can't afford to even think as a human. But for all of that, he's fighting for a world where people like him don't exist.

"And if I'm being perfectly honest, Saber, if he _had_ been killed tonight, I can't even begin to describe how much it would break me, I only know that my grief would know no boundary, and spill out onto the world from my heart, tears flowing without end. I love that man that much. More than that, but it's no small thing to say that for our daughter to learn of her father dying would leave her beyond inconsolable. In that way, his ruthless determination does have some origin in his love for her. She's…his last hope for a future beyond the flames of this war, beyond achieving that which has consumed his very life, body and soul."

Though Irisviel's voice didn't crack or break, there was something sober and heavy to it, and Saber knew without needing any kind of proof that the pain of losing of Kiritsugu would be, to Irisviel, grievous in the extreme. Saber, for her part, felt a lump in her throat at this, and for this she softened.

Though it did feel strange to her that Irisviel didn't count herself as another reason for her husband to go on living when all of this was over, but she didn't dwell on it, thinking that Irisivel had left that to implication.

Still, she was compelled to at least impart what wisdom of experience she could, even if it had to be through the proxy of Kiritsugu's wife, rather than to Kiritsugu himself.

"I understand…what you're saying, Irisviel. And I respect it. But you must also understand too…that when I was younger…and green in the time of my rule…I would throw myself into many battles, thinking only of victory for the sake of my people, tearing through the lives of so many of whatever army we were fighting, that I felt my humanity nearly ripped away by the tide of conflict. I almost lost myself completely, fighting in the many wars that I did to protect my country. It would seem that Kiritsugu throws himself into his own battles with the same uncompromising focus. Yet he sees everything that could go wrong on a technical level, without seeing the consequences that really matter…as _I_ should've done.

"I only wish that he could see that he cannot hope to defeat the evil he seeks to defeat, until he finds a way to defeat it within himself…before it's too late. Otherwise…the world he seeks to save cannot truly _be_ saved…and my answering his summons in this fight was pointless…."

There was the scrape of heels on stone as Irisviel stepped from the wall. Then Saber felt her draw beside her at the battlements and looked at her, watched her with a renewed sense of her awe of her when she saw the way she smiled at the bright moon on the sea in the distance. And despite everything, she did take some comfort in what Irisviel told her next.

"Please believe me when I tell you this Saber: you…are absolutely essential…to the world Kiritsugu and I hope and pray for."


	6. A Feast For Kings

**Chapter Six**

 **A Feast for Kings**

 _Queen Guinevere turned from the window and Arturia met her sad, grey eyes._

 _"_ _You are off to battle then?" Guinevere sighed the words, as though she were tired of them before she'd even uttered them._

 _Arturia lifted her chin, maintaining her stoicism, one hand cradling the wrist of her other, gauntleted hand. "Yes. I will do what must be done."_

 _"_ _What must be done, is it?" Guinevere's mouth quirked upward into a mirthless, almost bitter smile. Then she turned back to the window._

 _When she said nothing more, Arturia sighed and, letting her hands fall at her sides, she then gave a slight bow, laying a hand over her heart. "I shall return when the battle is won, my lady queen." Then she straightened and turned smartly on her heel, taking up the sheathed Excalibur and fastening it to her belt._

 _At the door, she heard Guinevere speak her name, and it gave her pause._

 _"_ _And Lancelot…he rides with you?"_

 _"_ _Of course. He is the noblest, most loyal, and purest of all of my Knights of the Round Table, followed closely by Sir Bedevere."_

 _"_ _Yes…that he is…."_

 _But Guinevere sounded far away._

 _Arturia looked at her one last time, tried to see the youthful, golden maiden she had first met on the day of their wedding…the wedding that had gone on for seven days in celebration…but all she could see was the withered beauty of a woman forced to share Arturia's destiny of casting off her humanity and her womanhood for the sake of their kingdom._

 _They were two of them women who had both had lives carved out for them that denied them to embrace even a single scrap of their femininity. Well, Guinevere at the very least could wear the shell of a woman, but like Arturia, she was forbidden from experiencing a woman's inner life, starved of a normal person's romance and human feeling for someone to love._

 _Unable to think of anything to say, even if, for once, she wanted to be able to comfort her like any human being, Arturia gave no reply and turned away again, descending the stone steps to the castle keep below._

 _At the bottom, she was met first by none other than Lancelot, and Arturia felt a frisson at his appearing when she and Guinevere had just been speaking of him._

 _"_ _Lancelot," she said, because there was nothing else to say. She wasn't really one for small talk. It was hard to find it in herself to get close to anyone when so much of her had to be tucked away from the world. It was better to remember her place and keep herself to herself. As long as her knights and soldiers saw that she stood fearless, they would have heart, and she could lead them to the light in this time of darkness._

 _Lancelot cleared his throat. "Sire," he began. "I…I have…a qualm or two."_

 _Arturia managed something of a smile. She always could for Lancelot. Of all of the Knights, he had been fighting under her command the longest, back when she still indulged in carefree moments now and then. "You? The brave and gallant Lancelot? Has a qualm or two?"_

 _She approached her horse in the courtyard of the keep, and Lancelot followed._

 _"_ _Well, it's only…I…."_

 _It took a moment for Arturia to realize that Lancelot was no longer following her. She turned, and saw him run his fingers through his long dark hair. He even looked a little paler than usual, his eyes a little more melancholy._

 _Was he actually…nervous?_

 _She worked up her smile again, encouraging in the only way she knew how to be, and closed the gap between them. Given her petite stature compared to how tall he was, she could only reach up to his forearm, but she gripped it nonetheless._

 _"_ _We have justice on our side this day, my friend," she told him. "We will be victorious. Never fear."_

 _Lancelot ran his hand down to the back of his head, idly brushing at the length of hair that fell to his shoulders. And then the corner of his mouth twitched._

 _"_ _You are the pure light of the sun, sire," he said sincerely. "I pray that it never fades."_

 _Yet he still seemed sad somehow. Perhaps it was because even between them, Arturia could never build anything like true friendship._

 _To be king is to be alone._

 _Even so, she could still be kind, gracious and benevolent._

 _She released Lancelot's arm and held out her hand for him to shake. "Come. We shall ride out together. I need you at my side. I always do."_

 _"_ _Of course, sire," said Lancelot, accepting her hand. "I go where you go."_

 _That day they rode out to the battle against the invading Norsemen more gloriously than ever. Artruria cried out for her forces to follow her to the edge of hell, and they raised their swords and shouted, prepared to do so without hesitation. Their swords and shield shined silver in the sun, and despite the blood and gore, mud and sweat that painted them, they were victorious, and the king held a feast of triumph that night, as was expected of a king._

 _But that night, she learned everything, when she turned that corner, deep past midnight when she was wakeful. There was Guinevere and Lancelot, locked in lovers' embrace, Lancelot murmuring reassurances in Guinevere's ear. And then Guinevere spotted Arturia over Lancelot's shoulder and gasped. Lancelot turned and he too saw, his expression crumbling._

 _Yet Arturia could not find any anger in her heart. Only sadness. Only pity for her friend, and pity for her wife went without saying._

 _"_ _Sire…" Lancelot started, his voice falling away._

 _Guinevere covered her mouth, looked away, ashamed._

 _Lancelot tried and failed again to speak, opening and closing his mouth. He gave up and dropped his eyes to the stone floor._

 _"_ _You do not understand," he murmured._

 _Arturia said nothing._

 _Then Lancelot snapped his head up, and actually glared at her. Even Guinevere seemed frightened._

 _"_ _You do not understand," Lancelot repeated. "How could you? When you are a king who does not understand how others feel? Does not want to or care to?"_

 _Arturia, having no reply, and curling into herself, only turned with a sweep of her deep blue mantle and didn't look back._

 _Behind her, she heard Lancelot call out with one last desperately hoarse cry that echoed against the stone walls._

 _"_ _ARTHUR!"_

 _But Arturia kept walking, putting it behind her._

 _And when dawn broke, Lancelot had gone from Camelot._

* * *

The sudden ripple that broke through at the clamoring arrival of another enemy Servant jerked Saber out of her reverie. Her head snapped up, returning to herself as she'd been patrolling the dark halls of Einzbern castle. Her instincts kicked in, her whole body taut and alert.

She had to find where Irisviel had wandered off to.

Something in her made it possible for her to find her lady charge swiftly. No sooner had had she rounded the next corner at a sprint than she discovered Irisviel had fallen to her knees along the wall across from a broken window. When Saber reached her, Irisviel looked as though she was in pain.

"Irisviel!" Saber knelt down beside her. "Are you all right?"

Irisviel caught her breath, as the pain she seemed to have appeared to pass. "Yes, I'm fine." She wiped a bit of sweat that had beaded on her brow with the back of her hand. "I just wanted to see, how bad it was, when Kiritsugu fought here…."

Saber felt a hitch in her throat. For some reason seeing how much Irisviel's thoughts went out to her husband when he was gone from the castle like this tugged at something in her chest. Her mind briefly touched back to her ruminations from a few moments ago, about the life she and Guinevere had shared, and how terribly that had unfolded. She couldn't help but compare it to what Irisviel and Kiritsugu seemed to share between them, even if she only saw mere glimpses of it, and realized that _that_ was why she felt that aching tug at her heart.

They had what she and Guinevere never did, never could. Somehow…they made it work.

"Irisviel…."

"They waited," said Irisviel, referring to the Servant that had just crashed in, her eyes drifting up to the moonlit windows in the hall. "They waited until Kiritsugu was gone to strike."

Saber helped Irisviel to her feet. "Stay close. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

Then Irisviel smiled, warm as sunlight. "I know, Saber. I know you won't."

At that moment, something very large made a resounding crash into the very castle that made the whole structure shake. Saber and Irisviel looked at each other and then nodded, and Saber summoned her armor.

After ordering the Einzbern maids to hide down below in the cellars, they followed the source of the commotion to the castle's entrance hall, and standing atop the grand staircase they were met with the sight of none other than Rider—or Isakandar, if you preferred—in his oxen-pulled chariot. He wasn't wearing his own armor, surprisingly, but instead wearing modern jeans and a t-shirt that bore the image of what looked like a map of the world, but Saber couldn't really tell. Actually, she was more baffled by the immense barrel he had balanced on his shoulder with one arm.

She regained her faculties quickly however, shaking her head and blinking. "Rider! What are you doing here?" she demanded, still puzzled by the huge grin the ruddy King of Conquerors had on his face.

"Why, I came to see your castle," Rider declared as though immensely proud of it, his voice carrying easily in the grand entrance hall. He even thumped his chest with his free fist to emphasize the point. Then he knitted his brows in obvious confusion. "But why are you in your armor? Why aren't you in your snappy suit and tie? Were you planning on fighting someone?"

 _He's genuinely confused as to why I would don armor when an enemy Servant like himself comes knocking…._ Saber mentally face-palmed at Rider's seeming thick-headedness.

"Come now, I come bearing alcohol!" Rider grinned again, his eyes bright and eager, almost like a teenager who can't wait to party. Then he glanced about the entrance hall and pulled a face. "It's kinda gloomy in here though. Don't you have someplace a little more befitting of a banquet?"

Saber and Irisviel exchanged bemused and bewildered expressions, then looked back at Rider. Only then did Saber take note of Rider's Master—a boy who couldn't be more than seventeen years of age—crouched and quivering behind his Servant in the oxen-pulled chariot. His dark hair, grown past his ears, reminded Saber of this one altar boy she used to see every day at the church near where she grew up, his nose smudged with inks from how closely and intently he bent over the scrolls he'd diligently be writing on as he pursued his studies as a religious scribe.

Then Irisivel took Saber's arm. "Maybe we should take him up on his offer."

Saber raised an eyebrow at Irisviel. "Do you really think that's wise?"

"I don't sense any hostility. What about you?"

"No, you're right, I don't sense any either. He seems perfectly genuine in his cordiality."

"Besides…maybe we can discern something of value just from having such an exchange." And Irisviel's mouth curved up rather slyly.

Saber raised her eyebrows and then smiled in praise. "That's a good point. Good thinking."

"Let's use the garden," Irisivel suggested. "I'd prefer this were done out in the open air. Just in case."

Saber nodded. "Right." She turned to Rider. "Rider, we accept your offer of drink and conversation. If you'll just follow us this way?"

* * *

Out in the middle of the garden, where the stone paths crisscrossed perpendicular to each other, Saber and Rider sat where they met in the middle. Irisivel and Rider's Master kept on the sidelines, understanding that Rider intended this to be a conversation "strictly between kings".

Saber arranged herself rather as someone native to this land would, on her knees with her skirt of cloth and armor arranged about her, her hands folded in her lap, her back ramrod straight. She gave Rider a very serious look, but Rider appeared unfazed. He looked almost gleeful as he punched through the lid of the wine barrel, rather than simply prying it open like any sane person would. Then again, few people had Rider's obviously immense strength.

He scooped up some into a wooden cup attached to a long handle, and partook of it, as though testing its taste. Satisfied, he scooped up another cupful and handed it to Saber.

Saber took it, never breaking her gaze from Rider's. She wondered if he was curious to see how well she held her drink.

She was on the edge of smiling as she thought, _You're about to find out._ For in those days of feasting in the halls of Camelot, she had acquired a rather great tolerance to all the ale she drank, which was a bit of a marvel given her size. Of course, she had felt obligated to put her efforts into training herself to be able to hold her own in the art of drinking other people under the table, as it were, so that she could drink as a man would, but handle it like a king, never letting the drink degenerate her into a sorry and ill-befitting state of inebriation.

She quaffed the wine Rider offered her now in one go, letting the fruity bouquet fill her nostrils as the liquid slid silkily down her throat, leaving behind that slight burn that only alcohol could. Then she handed the emptied cup back.

Not even the faintest buzz yet. What child's play.

Rider took the emptied cup from her, and she thought he might've looked just a little impressed. Or at least pleased that she might very well be up to drinking with the likes of him.

Then he said, "I've been thinking…perhaps we need not shed blood in order to determine who is worthy of the Grail. Perhaps we might find another way."

"Is that so?" said Saber, lifting her eyebrows at him. "Then what do you propose instead?"

"Well…I thought we could figure it out right here, by simply comparing our rankings. We could have what you might call a 'Grail Dialogue', instead of a War."

Saber surveyed him with her keen green eyes, trying to figure his game. "Hmmm…."

Nearby there was a shimmer of golden light, and Saber and Rider both looked at where they were joined by the Servant Archer, materializing out of Spirit Form, and like Saber, he had come dressed in the full regalia of his armor, garish as it was. Even in the pale silver light of the moon and stars, that armor shone like sun.

"That is quite enough nonsense from you mongrels, I think," Archer drawled with disdain as he approached the two sat in the middle of the garden.

Saber tensed when he reached them, narrowing her eyes at him. "Archer, what do you want?"

But Rider had an answer for that, and he massaged the back of his neck with his free hand. "Um…well, I ran into him on the way here, and I thought, 'Why the hell not?'" Then he flashed Archer his cheery grin. "Glad you could make it, Goldy."

Archer's nose wrinkled, probably at Rider's sobriquet, but seemed to ignore it in favor of letting his eyes—a garnet shade of crimson that reminded Saber of snake's eyes—rake over the vicinity of the garden. "This place is rather depressing for a banquet. I hope you have something in mind that doesn't waste my time." He addressed this last back to Rider, the merest of threats in his voice.

"Relax, Goldy, and have a drink." Rider had scooped up some more wine and offered it up to Archer.

Archer regarded the drink with distaste a moment before wordlessly accepting the cupful. He took a sip, and smacked his lips once before grimacing. "Ugh…what is this disgusting swill? You call this a drink that befits a king?" He thrust the rest of the wine back at Rider.

Rider took it back, looking a little crestfallen as he considered it. "Really? It seemed to me to be the best that was on offer at the city market today."

"You _would_ ," Archer sneered. "You have no discerning taste when it comes to drink, do you? Stupid mongrel."

As Archer waved his hand and made a circle of gold light appear—a circle not unlike the ones from which he had seemed to draw a myriad of weapons from another dimension when they first laid eyes on him in the shipyards—Saber glared even harder at him, not at all approving of the way Archer threw his weight around. For her part, she thought the drink had had a rich bite to it that was the mark of any decent red wine.

Meanwhile, Archer produced a golden pitcher and three golden cups from the circle of light he'd conjured. As the circle disappeared, he tossed the cups to Rider, who caught them all deftly in one hand.

"Allow me to treat you to a _true_ drink of kings," said Archer, his mouth quirking up wryly as he handed Rider the golden pitcher.

Rider raised an eyebrow at him and then poured wine for both him, Saber, and Archer. Whatever skepticism he possessed though was blown away by a gasp of surprise when he took a sip of Archer's wine.

"By the gods! You weren't kidding, Archer! This is _ambrosial_ , to say the least!"

Saber glanced between Rider and her own gobletful of wine, finding herself curious in spite of herself. So she too took a sip and…

… _divine._

That one word blossomed in her mind like a rose at the taste of the lusciously crimson drink. There was a plummy lusciousness to it that bespoke of grapes grown in a brightly colored and exotic place, perhaps the biblical Garden of Eden itself. It sparkled on her tongue, glittered like rubies, reaching the neurons in her brain like fireworks turned to starlight.

At that tiny taste, she too sucked in her breath in surprise, staring in amazement at the rest of the liquid in her cup. Then she caught Archer looking at her over his own cup as he'd taken a seat on the ground between her and Rider, and there was something searing about the redness of his very serpentine eyes. It made her shiver and withdraw into herself, narrowing her green eyes back at him, daring him to keep staring at her like that.

To which he responded with a smirk before looking away.

Saber dropped her eyes back to the wine in her cup, and suddenly the liquid seemed to her more like blood than anything else.

"Well Archer," Rider was saying, already pouring himself more, "this sample of wealth from your—what did you call it? Your treasure house? It's most impressive."

"Of course it is," said Archer, as though it were obvious. "Every treasure known to both gods, men, and devils traces their origins back to my treasure house. You could say that I alone contain all that is golden and glittering in the universe, and more. More than that, you not only _could_ say it, but you _should_ , for it is entirely true. You want to puzzle out from a mere conversation who is truly worthy to win the Grail? You need look no further than myself. In fact, even the Holy Grail counts itself among my many prizes."

Rider and Saber stared at him.

"You mean…you've _seen_ the Holy Grail? Held it in your very hands?" Rider asked.

"No, but it is mine by virtue of the fact that I am master of the universe," Archer said simply. "And I can assure you, it is no mere drinking cup."

Rider let out a guffaw. "Well, of _course_ it's not!"

Archer furrowed his golden brow at him, as though every bit of Rider's large-hearted nature offended him in some way. Then his expression turned even more pinched when Rider went on to ask him what his wish for the Grail might be. So Archer went on and on with some drivel about how somehow it was insulting for Rider to ask him such a thing. Saber supposed it was because he already (in his mind at least) owned all that was creation (which was just nonsense to believe so no matter who you were in the history books) and things like mere wishes were beneath him. Or something.

Saber scoffed at him, regardless.

Archer didn't miss it, his ears pricking up at how casually she batted away his declarations.

"Your words are no different than Caster's insane ramblings, Archer," Saber dismissed, ignoring the incensed yet quiet flame growing in Archer's eyes as she sipped more of his wine.

Yet unlike with Rider, Archer made no comment where Saber's offenses against him were concerned. Saber continued to avoid his gaze, getting the feeling that underneath that serpentine coolness, he was actually rather fascinated. It would follow that he would be the sort of man who had regarded women as beautiful objects to drape across his body and nothing more, never imagining that one would fling his words right back at him.

Rider meanwhile was laughing again, pouring himself a third cup. "Well, that all may be the case, Archer, but you forget that I am the King of Conquerors, and I welcome the challenge of simply taking your treasure house by force and plundering all it contains within. When I see something I desire, I reach out, and grasp a hold of it for myself. And if I have to struggle in order to grasp it, all the better."

Saber raised her eyebrows at this. "You would just…take something that isn't yours? Just because you desire it?" She punctuated her question with smacking the base of her gold and emptied cup on the stone ground, unconcerned with the way Archer and Rider were both now staring at her. "Tell me then, oh King of Conquerors: what wish would _you_ ask of the Grail?"

Unexpectedly, Rider's cheeks colored at this, and it had nothing to do with the wine, even as he downed his third cup in one go in his hesitation before answering. And even then, he said it more to the empty space beside him than to either of them, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

"Reincarnation," he muttered.

Saber and Archer both frowned in perplexity at this, as Rider's young master suddenly came up from behind, waving his arms about and exclaiming, "What? What the hell? I thought your quest was for world domination!"

To which Rider backhanded his Master, flipping him backward ass over tea kettle before he landed hard on his back with a groan.

"Idiot!" Rider snapped at him, bristling. "Conquering the world is something for _me_ to accomplish! And me alone! I won't have a wish-granting device do it for me! World conquest is _my_ dream to make true. However…." He softened, considering the hand he'd used to backhand his Master with. ( _Would things could be that easy between me and Kiritsugu_ , Saber allowed herself to think a little wistfully.) "As a Heroic Spirit, I am only granted temporary form and substance in this present world of the living. In truth I am nothing more than air, a ghost. But to be real and honest flesh and blood again…." He closed his hand into a fist. " _That_ is what I wish of the Holy Grail, to start life anew and build a new empire, brick by brick, as I did in my old life. Starting from the bottom and working my way up…that's the most exciting part."

Rider's Master frowned as he rubbed his backside, but he said nothing more.

Archer actually snorted into his cup. "My, my, Rider. I am thoroughly going to enjoy destroying you."

This brought back Rider's good humor though, and he gave Archer a glance with a gleam in his eye. Or maybe that was just the wine.

"I look forward to it," he told him.

As Archer answered with a smirk, Saber took another sip of drink.

"This is all hardly befitting the behavior of a true king," she said.

"Oh?" Rider raised his eyebrows and set aside the pitcher as he'd poured himself yet another drink. "Then tell us, Saber, what would _you_ wish for?"

Saber looked at the two of them, a little caught off guard in spite of herself by the directness of the question. Still, she supposed to she owed an answer.

With a sigh she set aside her cup again. "What I would wish for…would be my country's salvation. I would wish Briton saved from the ruin that befell her."

For a moment her mind flashed grimly to her own death, the mortal wounds she had sustained in her fight-to-the-death against Mordred, draining her life away as she knelt on the hill of despair, bodies of the dead laid before her as far as the dawn-touched horizon.

But she was snapped out of her reverie when Rider said, "Wait…let me see I have this right…you would reverse the fate of the nation you ruled? Erase the mark you have made on history?"

Saber lifted her eyes to his. "Yes. I would."

"And this nation…Briton…you say it fell to ruin during _your_ reign?"

"Yes. And I regret it sorely."

There was a snicker of laughter at this from Archer.

Saber flicked a glare at him. "Archer. What is so funny?"

"Ha ha!" Archer crowed, tipping back his head. "You call yourself a king? And are praised by all as such? _And_ you say you have regrets? Oh, it's just too much!"

Before Saber knew it she'd shot to her feet, the rage rising with a roar inside of her, her fists clenching. "How dare you?" she growled. "Why do you mock my despair?!"

"He makes a fair point though…Saber," said Rider.

"What?!" Saber snapped, turning on him.

But Rider had suddenly become uncharacteristically sober while Archer was still choked with laughter.

"To say that you regret your life as king," said Rider, "I find your lack of pride disappointing, King of Knights."

"Yes? And what would you know of it? You who lavished in greed and pleasure and took whatever you liked as you expanded your empire, only to have it all shattered to pieces by your weaker successors. A king must have a just rule, with just laws. You're nothing more than a tyrant."

"A tyrant is at least better than a figurehead!"

When Rider looked up at her again, his eyes burned with something Saber hadn't seen before, and she took a step back.

"In life, as king," said Rider, "I followed my own path, my own dreams, and compelled my empire to follow me to the ends of the earth for them. Yes, some dreams failed to come true, and others led to nothing but ruin before and after my death, but to actually _regret_ all of that? Let alone undo it all!

"Yes, I am grieved by its eventual destruction. I mourn it, and will shed tears over it, but I will _not_ regret it! To do so would insult the lives of those who bled and fought and died beside me!

"But you…Saber…seem to have been blinded by the idea of asserting yourself a noble and humble king who lived only to serve others, yet when you made your sacrifices and left your legacy behind, there was no one left to save those who had survived the calamity. _That_ is where and why your Briton fell."

Saber was trembling, but she lifted her chin. "Kings are martyrs to their ideals."

"I see." Rider shook his head. "That is no way for a person to live."

"If I rule a nation as king," said Saber quietly, "I cannot expect to live as a person."

"No. To live as a king and _not_ embrace all that life has to offer, and live richly, and more grandly than anyone else… _that_ is the worst thing you could have done. Meanwhile those who followed you were left to fend for themselves without hope while you went off and followed your pretty little ideals to the end."

Saber stared at him, her mouth gone dry. And then Lancelot's words echoed back to her.

 _"_ _You do not understand. How could you? When you are a king who does not understand how others feel? Does not want to or care to?"_

She found herself back on the hill of death again, watching the last sunrise that she would ever see, and finding its beauty so cold and so empty, as though the world itself had come to an end.

Meanwhile, Rider went on burning with anger at her, and Saber was seeing him for what he really was, at his core.

"You may indeed have saved them," he told her, "but you never _led_ them! It is clear to me now that you are no true king. You're just a little girl."

That last struck Saber to the heart. Because…that might have been her greatest fear…that after everything she had been through, she had still been no different than the little girl who had cried helplessly the first time she'd picked up a sword and had been beaten soundly, weak as she was in the frail body she had believed to be so because she was female.

She could hear that little girl again, crying as Sir Ector showed her no mercy, shouting at her to quit her sniveling and get back on her feet.

 _"_ _What kind of king cannot even stand on his own two feet?"_

Everything…everything she had fought so hard to overcome…her weakness, her own desires, her doubt and fear in herself…she had come out no better for it for all her efforts…leaving Guinevere broken, Lancelot gone forever, and Mordred dead by her hand…dead when it was her fault Mordred came for her in the first place.

She knew that now.

She had always known it was her fault, but…having it put this way…she realized….

 _Maybe…maybe I should never…maybe I should never have been…._

She felt her quaking knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

Then Archer's laugh snapped her out of her thoughts, which just served to piss her off.

" _What is so funny_?" she demanded of him through ground teeth.

Archer, unfazed, gave her mocking yet inviting smile. "I was just enchanted by the look of anguish on your face. It's one that I have seen on a many a virgin who used to shower flower petals in my bed." He lowered his golden eyelashes softly. "A woman after my own heart."

"You…."

Then the court filled with a shadow that came like a breath, and suddenly one by one there appeared shade after shade, all of them masked and of varying sizes and shapes. But they all spoke in one voice.

 _"_ _We are all of us…many…we are many…all of us…and one."_

"Assassin!? I thought he _died_!" Rider's Master exclaimed, his voice cracking.

"Clearly not," said Saber under her breath, her shock and weakness forgotten in the face of this unexpected danger.

Irisviel ran over and grabbed her by the arm. "Saber…."

Rider's Master had gone to his Servant's side, dancing on the spot in panic. "What the hell!? Why are there so many Assassin's here!?" he wailed.

Archer was glancing around at all the Assassins assembled and ready to spring with scarlet serpentine eyes. "Tokiomi…you cur…" he muttered.

But while Saber, Irisviel, Archer, and Rider's Master bristled with tension, Rider seemed quite at ease. He even laughed and jovially invited Assassin to partake of their wine. To which Assassin replied by firing at and destroying the cup he'd raised to them.

That was when Rider got serious. When he stood, he let loose a burst of power, a whirlwind that Saber had to shield her eyes against. As she opened them, she saw that he had donned his rich red mantle and armor.

"Saber!" he called without turning around. "I have one more question: does the king always stand alone?"

Despite what Rider had told her, Saber swallowed, determined to stand her ground. She wasn't about to let him tear her apart all over again.

"The king," she said, "must indeed be alone. Always!"

"No, no." Rider shook his head. "You obviously don't understand. Allow me to show you then…."

The world burst open into hot, golden light. Saber had to squint against the garishness, as Irisviel clutched her arm tighter. When their eyes adjusted, they took in their surroundings in amazement, finding themselves on a vast desert plain carpeted with miles and miles of sand beneath the scorching noon sun. And marching towards them, a vast army approached. And there stood Rider, quite majestically too, a fine horse at his side.

"A Reality Marble…?" Irisviel breathed.

"Behold, my endless armies, each of them a Heroic Spirit in their own right, but who have all pledged their loyalty to me!" Rider announced proudly.

"You mean…each of these is a Servant?" Rider's Master asked incredulously, his young face twitching as though he were either about to smile or sneeze.

Without even realizing it, Saber and Irisviel had sunk to their knees together, as though the very sight had weakened their legs. Saber certainly felt weaker than she'd felt in a long time.

Rider withdrew his sword and lifted it high into the air, so that it gleamed silver in the sun. A memory flickered in Saber's mind of the days she would lead her troops into battle this way.

But where was it that she and Rider diverted in their leadership in this venue?

It soon became clear to her. While she had evoked fierce cries from her knights and soldiers whenever she led the charge, she saw something more from this vast army of various different Heroic Spirits of different eras, all united under Rider's banner. And she got this sense from them that where they were unlike her own armies were that Rider had _earned_ this army in his afterlife.

Saber could not say the same for her own.

For it was clear in their shouts and the shakes of their spears and swords that they adored Rider as their leader with every fiber of their being. Enough to follow him into the depths of hell gladly.

The ground trembled with their size, and Saber's heart thrilled and quivered for it.

Then Rider led the charge as he sat astride his horse, and he and his army rushed the meager numbers of the various personalities of Assassin, swallowing them all in their maw. And when it was over, Rider led them all in a cry of victory that shook the world.

Then it all blinked out of sight, and they were all of them back in the Einzbern garden, as if none of that had ever happened. Only Assassin was most certainly gone for good now.

Rider was finishing off the last of the wine he'd brought in the barrel, looking strangely morose for a conqueror who had just achieved victory in battle. His Master had slid to the ground in a shaking heap of what looked like shock and ecstasy. And though it was a passing thought, Saber gave it a moment's attention, for she had the impression that he even looked a little melancholy himself. He was, after all, such a small Master for such a large and robust Servant like Rider was. It touched something in Saber, to see this young man, but she couldn't quite be sure what it could be.

Irisviel meanwhile was still clutching onto Saber's arm. She even seemed to be leaning against her, her face pinched as though she were pained. But then it passed, and Saber made a note to ask about it later, letting her gaze linger over her charge solicitously before relinquishing her hold on her and turning back to Rider and Archer, regaining her feet.

Archer of course looked unimpressed with everything that had occurred as he quaffed the last of his own drink.

After Rider finished off this last drink, he announced that they should bring their dialogue to an end.

As he prepared to leave, Saber took a step forward. "Rider…."

But Rider had turned his back on her, summoning his chariot and plucking his still shell-shocked Master off of the ground by the boy's shirt-collar, like he were picking up a cat by the scruff of its neck.

"Little girl, you need to wake up from your sad dream," he told her after he deposited his Master in his chariot.

Saber clenched her fists at the slight of "little girl", but said nothing. So she could think of no argument when he added, "I no longer recognize you as a king."

However, as he alighted his chariot, Rider also said, "However…I believe you may yet prove your worth…Saber."

And with that, his oxen-drawn chariot rose high into the air and disappeared in a flash of lightning.

"May yet prove my worth…" Saber murmured after him, the ghosts of Guinevere, Lancelot, and Mordred shimmering in her mind.

However, the sobriety of the mood was ruined by another chuckle from Archer.

"Pay him no heed, my flower," he told her silkily, grinning much in the way Saber imagined Lucifer must have grinned at Eve in the body of the snake he'd possessed to tempt her to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. "He doesn't appreciate the beauty of your noble struggle, the way I do."

Saber felt her cheeks grow hot, a passion of anger rising up within her again, but mixed with something else. Before she could think how to respond to his arrogant advances however, he stood and bade her farewell, taking with him what remained of his wine as he dissolved in a cluster of golden light that faded and rose up like sparks from a fire into the starry sky above, leaving behind a trace of his puckish laughter. The sight of his red serpentine eyes were the last things to disappear, and they burned in her mind like embers, just for a moment.

"Insolent…" she muttered after him.

"Saber…." Irisviel had also regained her feet, if a little unsteadily at first, and she approached Saber with a furrowed brow of concern, clutching both of her hands to her heart.

"Come, we should withdraw back into the castle," said Saber, rather abruptly, avoiding Irisviel's compassionate expression.

But she felt comforted somehow as Irisviel followed her, something soft settling inside her. It made her stop for a moment, halfway out of the garden.

"Saber, um…I don't think he's entirely right about you…" Irisviel began.

Saber forestalled her. "It's fine. He actually does have a point. You see…." She hesitated a moment before she went on. "There was a knight…at my Round Table…who left Camelot one day…after telling me that I didn't understand how others feel…."

 _Lancelot…._

"Saber…." It was all Saber could seem to say.

"You know…" Saber, went on, "for all that I find disagreeable about Kiritsugu, I am certain of one thing. There is indeed something between you two that binds you together, and it's more than just the common goal that the two of you share. It's something that's deeper than that. The two of you looked at each other one day, and without having to say a word, knew that you had an understanding, that the wish you hope to offer the Grail gave you the strength to build a relationship based on that wish. You have lived your lives together, as beings who had to be more than normal people, yet you could still stay true to each other. I…." She swallowed a sudden painful lump in her throat. "Guinevere...and I…could never have that."

"I see," said Irisviel very quietly. The wind lifted gently, and then she added, "So, you and Guinevere, never felt anything for each other?"

"We couldn't afford to. At least…that's what I believed, and my being secretly a woman complicated things. Thus I condemned us both. I…regret that now." Saber closed her eyes, and thought mournfully of Guinevere and Lancelot, and of Mordred. Always she thought of them mournfully. "I condemned Guinevere to a life lived without love…the kind she wanted…."

But then Irisviel said, "You know, Saber, Kiritsugu and I…we had a life that was very human, actually, if you can believe that."

Saber opened her eyes, and turned to Irisviel, and found her beaming sweetly, her hands clasped behind her back.

"It's true that we're bound by a common purpose that's greater than the both of us, and a dream that we've had to place above all else…even our daughter." Irisviel's voice caught, and she pursed her lips and paused a moment until she could speak again with her smile. "But still, we shared laughter and tears and cross words like any other couple. At least the ones I saw in movies. Maybe not always for the same reasons as other couples might, but it all felt real, so I know that what I felt was human. We teased each other, and picked each other's brains, and watched corny movies, and read from books, and ice-skated, took walks in the woods, and played the piano while the snow fell outside…and shared loving touches in the veil of the night. And most wonderful of all, we both did our part to raise our daughter together, and there were evenings we'd talk at length about simple worries for her, like how we were going to get her to stop sleeping in a crib and sleep in her own room instead…just…ordinary things, that knit us together like any other family with its own troubles here and there…."

There was something in her eyes that seemed distant, and for just a moment, reminded Saber of that withered look Guinevere had given her before she'd left for battle that last day Lancelot had fought at her side.

And then…Irisviel was crying. Her red eyes filled with tears, making them glitter like rubies, and the moment she realized it, she hastily tried to brush them away.

"Oh…I'm sorry." Irisviel rubbed at both of her eyes with the inside of her delicate wrist, sniffling.

Saber was touchingly reminded of a child she'd once seen crying in a street over a doll her brothers had snatched away from her as a prank and gotten wrecked in the muddy road.

When Irisviel blinked the last of her tears away, she smiled robustly, trying her best to banish whatever sorrow had come over her. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just…I miss my daughter."

 _And my husband._

These three additional words she didn't speak of course, but Saber sensed them. She had that same feeling as she did whenever she would ride out to battle, and she would feel Guinevere's forlorn eyes follow her from where she watched in the tower of Camelot above. Though of course, she now knew that it had been Lancelot she'd been looking out for.

Even so, she couldn't help but admire the conviction Irisviel carried, the unyielding faith she had in the man she loved, ruthless as he was as a fighter.

Which brought her back to all those regrets that would not let her go.

 _"_ _If I rule a nation as king, I cannot expect to live as a person."_

That was what she had said to Rider, and yet he had vituperated her for saying it. She was beginning to understand his words a little more though.

Compared to her, she who had slain Mordred, who had left Guinevere broken, and who had stared for hours at the empty chair at the Round Table that Lancelot had left behind, how could she compare to that one small moment Kiritsugu had shared with his and Irisviel's daughter? Something so normal and happy and simple and…human.

Yet when it came to war, he seemed to shift gears effortlessly into the motions of a machine, cold because sometimes that was the only way to bear the weight of killing. And through it, even in separation by distance, his wife was beside him, in her heart.

Would that she had been able to have Guinevere at her side that way! For, if she were being honest with herself, there had been moments when she had looked at Guinevere and wanted to touch her in a way that had nothing to do with her purpose in life as a king, but just a companion to chase away the shadows of loneliness from them both.

Irisviel still had tears in her eyes, even as she tried to smile. And Saber decided then to forget herself now, even if it was too little too late, and not even with the person from whom she might seek atonement.

She reached inside her armor and withdrew a handkerchief, which she held up to Irisviel's face, dabbing at the tears still trailing down her face.

Irisviel sucked in her breath at the unexpected gesture of intimacy.

"Tears are unbecoming of you," Saber told her gently.

Her lady charge blinked at her, and then she smiled, and this time she seemed to have tears of joy instead of sorrow. "You know what? Kiritsugu would always tell me that whenever I started crying."

Earlier on, Saber might've found that a little hard to swallow. But at this point, she was willing to accept and believe in Irisviel's words, the way she spoke of the man she loved.

That for all his shady methods of fighting, at his very core, he had the kind of drive towards action that could only be found in a Heroic Spirit.


	7. Wilting

**Chapter Seven**

 **Wilting**

That night, Saber actually slept, in a way. Irisviel took rest in the room she'd taken, and Saber fell asleep watching over her, curled up in the nearby window seat. Tired, her eyes fell closed, watching Irisviel resting in her bed. Then she turned her face towards the window as she sank into slumber.

Her thoughts of Guinevere, Lancelot, and Mordred followed her, and visions of them surrounded her. Their shades pressed in upon her, the anguish in their eyes making Saber grab her head in her hands and fall to her knees, begging them to forgive her for not being what they'd needed her to be, promising them that all would well once she had the Grail in her hands.

The only place she could afford to be weak was in dreams like this, and she suffered through them even as they gave her a fitful sleep.

But then everything changed, and Guinevere, Lancelot, and Mordred disappeared, swallowed by flames.

And that was when she saw it.

 _Burning. Everything was burning._

 _The palm trees. The thatched roofs of little houses. The people. The people who weren't people anymore, but walking corpses instead, ones that thirsted for blood that would never satisfy._

 _One of them was a priest, and he lumbered towards the lone, dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy who was still completely human._

 _"_ _Father…Simon…?" the boy croaked, trembling like a terrified rabbit._

 _He took one step back, but in his fear, his knees gave, and he fell to the ground. The priest called Father Simon that was now a Dead Apostle lurched closer, reaching out for the boy, and the boy tried to scrabble away, but it was no use. His fear froze him, and all he could do was stare in horror, tears streaming down his face, as he realized that he was about to die, that his small life was about to end before it had really even begun._

 _He couldn't even scream, his bottom lip quivering as he could only cry for the fate that was before him. His eyes said everything. They said…_ please, don't let me die this way…please, someone save me….

 _That was when_ she _burst through the nearby fence. She skidded to a stop on the heels of her leather boots and fired off one shot after another from her arsenal of guns, taking out every Dead Apostle in the vicinity._

 _The boy stared at her, his tears and fears forgotten in a moment of stupefied wonder, every shot the woman fired reflected in those wide, dark eyes._

 _Then she finished off Father Simon with a blast to the head before turning her weapon on the boy._

 _The boy found his fear again, and found his voice enough to yell, if incoherently, trying to shield his face with is hands, thinking this fiercely cold woman might just shoot him too._

 _But the woman lowered her gun, tilting her head to one said, regarding him, like a machine might, unsympathetic in the face of his trauma._

 _"_ _Are you coming?" she asked over her shoulder as she made to leave. "You'll die if you stay here."_

 _The boy was staring at her again, and then he stood and followed her to a place separate from the burning village where she could question him. And some quiet, cold anger rose up in his dark eyes as he sat on a rock, staring at the flames below, as he seemed to formulate a plan that Saber could already foresee before he even made a move to do it._

 _All this destruction was his father's fault. His best friend and the girl he loved in his innocent youth was dead because of it._

 _So he would kill him._

 _It had to be done. There was no second-guessing on this. Only resolve._

 _A glimpse of the man that he would grow into, of the Kiritsugu that Saber knew._

Saber lifted her eyes open with a start.

And she murmured to herself, "Kiritsugu…to think…you were nothing more than a frightened little boy who didn't want to die that day…."

Then her eyes stung, though remained dry, as she buried her face in her gloved hand.

* * *

When morning light filled the room, Saber saw that Irisviel was still sleeping. She got up from the window seat and stood over her, watching the gentle rise and fall of the woman's chest, a little perturbed by the slight frown on her face.

Was she having troubled dreams too?

Saber smiled sadly and pulled the covers up a little higher around Irisviel's shoulder, brushing her silver hair out of her pale face. Then she withdrew and left the room, leaving her charge to sleep while she was still able to.

The large castle was still and empty, Saber's steps echoing as she stepped down the main marble staircase. Then she heard the tats of gunfire and followed the sound. What she found was Maya out in the garden, engaged in target practice. On one side of the garden, she had a bunch of sandbags, behind which she'd put together a sniper rifle smaller than that insanely heavy one from the night before (was it really only just last night that all that happened?), so she could position herself on her stomach and peer through the scope as she fired off shot after shot. Her targets, which she'd set up on the other side, was a row of glass soda bottles. Where she got them, Saber couldn't be sure, though she couldn't imagine Maiya sitting around drinking bottle after bottle of soda just to give herself a plentiful supply of practice targets.

For a moment, Saber watched her from the garden's edge, arms folded, impressed with how Maiya hit her mark every time she fired. But it occurred to her that Maiya really did seem to let the art of war and the life of a soldier consume her. She was even more of a machine than Kiritsugu was, if that were possible. Yet there was something about Maiya that had made Saber more sympathetic to her.

Then again, there was that dream she'd had last night. A dream she only could have had if Kiritsugu had been asleep when she'd been. A part of her even wondered if Kiritsugu then had shared in the dream she'd been having about Guinevere, Lancelot, and Mordred. Would he even react to such a thing? Well, if he did, he certainly wasn't one to let it interfere with his work here.

His sense of focus at least was enviable, she had to give him that. To be honest, she almost wished that she could cut herself off from what she felt in her heart so easily, instead of wearing it on her sleeve. She was proud of how passionate she was about what she personally believed in, and liked to think that she believed in those for herself, not just because that was the kind of world she was raised in. But there were times, in the aftermath of her anger, and her will to fight, when the grief would utterly drain her, that she wished she didn't have to feel anything at all, so she could bear it all without feeling how heavy it was.

Maiya fired another shot and hit the last bottle, and then she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and picked up the rifle so she could load it with a new clip. She paused and looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging Saber's presence.

When it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, and just look at her with those blank yet thoughtful eyes, Saber cleared her throat and spoke instead.

"Impressive," she complimented.

Maiya raised an eyebrow in reply and then went back to reloading her rifle.

Saber watched her for another moment before venturing to ask, "Mind if I give it a try?"

This gave Maiya pause, and she looked round at Saber again, this time actually appearing a little incredulous. "You want to fire off a rifle?"

Saber shrugged. "I must admit, I am curious. And I'm always willing to learn a new skill."

The other woman seemed to consider her for a moment, and then nodded, agreeing.

So Maiya showed Saber how to handle the sniper, load it, and then position herself and fire it off. Naturally Saber was a quick learner, helped by the fact that Maiya was a blunt and concise teacher, and soon enough she'd popped off a few shots, smooth as silk, hitting every single one of the new set of bottles Maiya had set out.

"Equally impressive," Maiya said. "But I suppose being a Heroic Spirit, you can take to these things quickly."

"Oh, I've always managed to grasp new things fast enough," Saber said as she pushed herself up onto her knees, trying very hard not to sound too proud of herself. "How long have you been working with weapons like this?"

Maiya knelt beside her. "Mm, since I was a small child. I guess I couldn't have been more than five or six."

Saber raised her eyebrows. She could tell that this woman was awfully young to already be so adept at what she did, but hadn't imagined that she'd been younger still when she'd started handling things like guns. Then again, she herself had been about that age when she'd first picked up a sword, but that was during a time when children were expected to learn how to fight from that age (only boy children of course, but children nonetheless).

Unless….

"Maiya…" she began carefully, reaching over to pick up the rifle and lay it across her lap so she could eject the empty clip. "Were you trained as a soldier from since you were a child?"

Maiya took the empty clip from Saber without looking at her and started loading it with new bullets. "I was. How did you guess?"

Saber shrugged, trying to be as casual about it as her companion was. "I was about that age when I started to learn how to fight. It was the only thing I could imagine would be the reason why you'd have started learning how to fight at that same age."

Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she saw Maiya smile at that, just a little.

But then she simply _had_ to ask then—

"So," she went on, sitting back and clasping her hands around her legs, "how did you come to start working for Kiritsugu like this?"

Maiya looked up at her, maybe a bit taken aback at the blunt directness of Saber's question. Then she went back to loading the clip. "I got separated from the rest of my squad during a battle. I never found out what happened to them, but I can make the safe bet that they were all either killed or captured and sold into slavery. That's usually the only two fates of child soldiers have. But Kiritsugu found me instead of the enemy, and he asked if I wanted to come with him. So I went, because for the first time, I had a third option from the other two. And if I was being honest, I didn't want either of those fates. At least…not then. There's really no doubt in my mind that choosing this path only bought me a few more years."

Saber frowned. "Are you so assured of your own destruction?"

"I would be more surprised if things didn't turn out that way."

"So…you have nothing in particular to fight for…except to do what Kiritsugu needs you to do."

"Yes. _Whatever_ he needs me to do."

"And you've made peace with that."

"I have." Maiya snapped the clip back into the rifle and positioned it again for firing.

Saber stood to go set up another row of bottles. "That is unfortunate to hear."

"It's as I told Kiritsugu, that I needed a purpose in my life, and the only thing I knew about were guns and death. That was the only place where I felt sure of myself. Kiritsugu understood me completely." Then Maiya looked up at her. "He did try to talk me out of it at first. Following him as his assistant. He talked about finding me a family. I told him that if he didn't take me with him, then he might as well kill me. That was enough for him to accept what I wanted. The only thing I wanted."

Saber stared at her. Moreover, she was a little taken aback to hear that Kiritsugu had tried to dissuade her from becoming his assistant. Yet he had given in to her wishes. That, and there was a curious softness surrounding Maiya's otherwise cold words, which gave Saber the impression that for all of her stand-offishness, she had to harbor a soft spot for Kiritsugu.

After all, she was still a human being.

At the same time though, Saber wasn't surprised to hear that Kiritsugu had both tried to dissuade her and grant her her wish, as she thought back again to the dream she'd glimpsed the night before, of the woman who had found young Kiritsugu crying on a burning island full of Dead Apostles.

* * *

Maiya had gotten the call just as Saber had finished sweeping up the glass and replacing the bottles with new ones for target practice. Then she flipped her phone shut and told Saber that Kiritsugu had already had an alternative safe house prepped for their arrival. Now that there were more than enough enemies who knew where to find Einzbern Castle, it was best they departed for their new base of operations as soon as possible.

While Maiya immediately started packing up the equipment, Saber set about taking care of everything else, starting with seeing if Irisviel was awake.

As it turned out, Irisviel was just stepping out of her bedroom when Saber went to knock on her door.

"Oh, Irisviel, I was just about to wake you," Saber told her. "Did you get enough sleep?" she added, thinking her charge looked a bit peaky.

But Irisviel gave her one of her very bright smiles. "More than enough. So, has Kiritsugu been in touch?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He just called Maiya to tell her we should depart from here as quickly as possible and get settled in the new base of operations he has arranged for us."

"Excellent. Oh, I can't wait to see it for myself. Kiritsugu did say it would be something of a surprise."

Saber chuckled at the way Irisviel's scarlet eyes sparkled, and then she noticed that a couple of the buttons on Irisviel's blouse were crooked. When she pointed it out, Irisviel looked down and saw it for herself. Then she laughed like it was nothing and insisted she could live with a few crooked buttons.

But Saber wouldn't hear of it, and since Irisviel wasn't going to do it, she reached over and fixed the buttons herself. It was only after she redid them that she became acutely aware of how close she and Irisviel were, how much she smelled so sweetly of irises, and when she looked up, their eyes met.

And it occurred to her at last how even someone as cold as Kiritsugu could melt at under the influence of such a woman. And something about that made Saber feel tender in her own heart.

"Irisviel…is everything all right?"

"Yes, Saber. Everything's fine."

Saber had her doubts though as Irisviel pulled away and pushed past her, but decided not to press the issue as she watched Irisviel's retreating back a moment before taking it upon herself to help the Einzbern maids pack up their lady's things.

* * *

To Saber's further surprise, Irisviel asked Saber if she would like to take a turn driving the Mercedes instead. She was so invested in the idea that Saber went along with it, and so Irisviel sat in the front passenger's seat while Saber took the wheel.

And, like with Maiya's guns, Saber took to the act of driving fluidly, as if she'd been doing it her whole life. But instead of attributing it to her being sharp with instructions, Saber knew this had to do with the Grail's having implanted such knowledge directly into her upon pulling her through to this time period. Because in this case, she didn't need anyone instructing her, though Irisviel did offer. (If Saber were being honest, she'd have been hesitant regardless, given Irisviel's erratic sense of abandon when it came to driving.) No, instead, the moment she touched the steering wheel, everything just came to her, and she drove stick like she'd been doing it for years.

Irisviel had no hesitation in expressing how impressed she was with Saber's capability.

But Saber couldn't help making the comment that she was a bit confused as to why Irisviel had been so keen on her driving instead, since she, for all of her recklessness, seemed to quite like to drive cars.

Like with the buttons on her blouse though, Irisviel casually waved this away too, saying she was happy to give Saber the chance to try out driving for herself. Saber began to wonder though if there was something possibly upsetting that Irisviel wasn't telling her, and she beetled her brow as she focused on Maiya driving in front of them, leading them to their new base of operations.

They came to a large Japanese style house on the edge of a section of Fuyuki called Miyama Town. Maiya bid them farewell at the gate, stepping out of her car just so she could hand over the keys (which Irisviel asked Saber to take for her).

Saber momentarily forgot her concerns for Irisviel when she noticed that all but one of the keys looked shiny and new and modern. This last key was definitely aged in the metal, and was more like an old-fashioned skeleton key.

"Maiya," she asked, "what does this key open? Do you know?"

"That key opens the storehouse," Maiya informed her, and in fact, she grinned a little, as though she were actually amused by Saber's innocent curiosity. She even chuckled, but it was so low that anyone not listening carefully would have missed it. "It's nothing special, really."

After Saber and Irisviel watched her get back into her car and drive off back down the road, presumably to reconnoiter with Kiritsugu, Irisviel turned to the front gate, and bounced on the balls of her feet like a child.

"Come on, Saber," she gushed. "Let's go explore our new home!"

Saber smiled to see her so excited, and sifted through one key after the other until she found the one that opened the front gates.

Irisviel pranced inside, her face lighting up with enchantment. She even flung her arms out and spun around, taking it all in. Saber didn't see anything too remarkable about it herself. It was an eastern style compound of a Japanese house, certainly nothing like the western castles she'd grown up around, but she supposed it had known splendor at one point. It was big enough. But the grasses were overgrown and weedy, and there were little bits of the house here and there that were clearly in disrepair, like a missing shingle or two from the roof, and the paper in the sliding doors was fading, even cracking. There were splinter in the walls here and there too.

Even so, Irisviel was delighted, reminding Saber very much of her and Kiritsugu's daughter.

"I told him once, you know," Irisviel said, when she paused in her spinning to clasp her hands behind her back and look at Saber over her shoulder. "I told him I'd wanted to see a Japanese mansion. Maybe he remembered I said that when he decided to purchase this place for us."

Saber blinked. "You mean, Kiritsugu?"

But Irisviel didn't appear to hear her, as she became quite distracted by the entrance to the house. She skipped over to it and gingerly pulled it aside, giggling at the way the door slid to her left to open, instead of swinging open like doors in all western architecture did. "Come on, Saber!" she called after her escort. "I want to see inside!"

Saber followed indulgently, keeping a few steps behind and letting Irisviel lead the way, while Irisviel slid open every door she could find, relishing in stepping on the tatami mats in all the rooms, and then shuffling in her boots over the wood floor in the corridors, and then poking about in the empty little kitchen.

Adjacent to this was the largest room, and Irisviel did another spin, flinging her arms out again and breathing in the musty, ancient-feeling air with a satisfied sigh. She had her eyes closed, and Saber paused, watching her.

"This is where they'd have the little table where everyone would talk and have tea together," Irisviel said, as though she were putting on a production. Then she opened her eyes. "And in the winter they'd have that blanket thing wrapped around it to keep them warm. Oh, I forget what it's called." She let her arms drop to her side when she noticed the large sliding doors that led outside to a porch overlooking the inner courtyard.

Irisviel inspected this door, and then, thinking aloud, remarked, "I'll bet that if they wanted this ready for winter, they'd install glass doors here to keep the cold out. But no one's lived here, so…either they're gone, or they were never in here to begin with because the building of this house predates glass. Though I can't see how it could be _that_ old. Feels like it could be though." Then she stepped out onto the porch, hands clasped behind her back again.

Saber inspected the door too, and then looked up and saw the way Irisviel was looking out at the courtyard, noting that it was equally full of unkempt grass and wild weeds.

Then Irisviel looked at the sun-filled sky, and though Saber couldn't see her face, she heard something in her voice that sounded like melancholy.

"I'll bet the moon…it would be really beautiful to see it from here."

The wind lifted, and Irisviel took another deep breath and let it out.

Then she added, "I feel something…here. I can't say for certain what it is…but I feel like…if you made a real home here…you'd be safe here. I feel like this is a place that will wrap you up in its arms…and let you feel everything you don't want the rest of the world to see you feel. You can fill it with all of your happiness…and your sorrow. And those feelings will stay safe here. Safe…and special."

She sighed again, and then she turned to Saber, who just barely caught an odd, telltale glister in her lady's red eyes. But she was beaming, just the same.

"Why don't we find that storehouse Maiya mentioned? This place is nice and big and all, but the lack of anything solid like stone in its walls really doesn't make it an ideal place for the kind of magic I need to perform."

"I see," said Saber. She held up the keys by the old, odd-one-out. "Well, let's take a look then, shall we?"

* * *

They found the storehouse out back, and the second Irisviel pulled the wooden sliding door aside and stepped in, she proclaimed that it was perfect for what she wanted to do. Then she asked Saber if she'd be so kind as to retrieve all the items from the car that she'd need to draw a magic circle, indicating that she'd need her help to draw it as well.

It was at this point that Saber knew she could no longer ignore the more pressing issue.

"Irisviel, can I…ask you something?"

"Eh?"

"Well, it's just that…driving the car…and taking the keys for you…even getting your blouse buttons jumbled…I can understand, we were up rather late last night…but now you're telling me…you can't perform your magic without…help…?" Saber looked up at Irisviel seriously. "Is there something you're not telling me about?"

Irisviel dropped the cheerful act, and though her smile remained, now she was meek and apologetic. She averted her eyes. "I suppose…there really isn't any point in keeping this from you. Not any longer, anyway." She took a deep breath and then let it out before she looked at Saber again. "Okay. Saber, I'm going to grab your hand, and I'm going to squeeze it as hard as I can, understand?"

"O…kay." Saber uncertainly tugged off one black glove and extended her hand for Irisviel to take.

Yet when Irisviel took it, and started to squeeze, Saber was taken aback at how little pressure she actually felt against her fingers. She waited another moment, waited for that pressure to increase, but…nothing.

Irisviel's touch was as delicate as an orchid's.

"Iris…viel…."

"I promise, I'm not toying around with you."

And hearing the palpable strain in Irisviel's voice then, Saber had to believe her, had to believe that this small, barely-felt press of fingers was all her lady could muster as far as squeezing her hand went. She even started to break out into a sweat.

"Irisviel." Saber tugged her fingers out of Irisviel's weak grip and clasped her hand in both of hers. "Please. Stop. It's okay. I understand now. But…." She felt the frown line in her brow deepen. "If you're this unwell…then shouldn't we…?"

Irisviel shook her head, and tried to tug back her hand. However, even just having it held the way Saber was doing now, she didn't have the strength to pull away. Saber had to release her herself, and as she did, she was overcome with a sudden melancholy.

"Irisviel, please…if you're unwell, you really shouldn't…" she doggedly protested.

"It would be pointless," Irisviel told her, massaging her thumb over the fingers she'd used to squeeze Saber's hand. "You see…I'm what they call a homunculus, a puppet designed for the purpose of fighting in the Holy Grail War. Specifically…I am…linked to it. Or the Servants, anyway. As in, with one Servant dead, the effects of my breakdown have now begun. I've lost the feeling in my hands, to the point that I really can't grip onto anything. Dressing this morning was so difficult…." She tried to laugh, like before, but it came out breathless, almost despairing.

It also explained why she'd appeared to have had trouble buttoning up her blouse.

Saber tried to say something, but all that came out of her throat was a soundless moan, a scrape against her throat.

"Anyway, because I'm not human, things like human medicine have no effect on me. If we were back at Einzbern Castle, normally Grandfather Acht would've done his alchemical adjustments on me to fix me, but even that's pointless now…because the process I'm undergoing can't be undone…." Irisviel's voice cracked on the last word, and she turned away, as if trying to hide the strength that was being peeled back to expose her true vulnerability. "Please don't worry about it though. I need you to be at your strongest, now more than ever. Can you do that for me…Saber?"

Saber was sadly reminded of Guinevere again, of how Lancelot's absence from Camelot drained the life and color out of her. She had seemed nothing more than a pale ghost when Saber had come to bid her that last farewell, before marching off to battle to meet Mordred, the child that was hers and not hers and not unlike Irisviel in construct…the battle that would claim her life. She still wondered if Guinevere didn't succumb to death herself when she'd learned of how Arturia, King of Briton, had fallen. Perhaps she had already died before that news had even reached her.

She was beginning to see more of Rider's point about the way her self-sacrificing nature and way of handling things had been misguided as far as being a leader was concerned, because indeed…looking at it that way, she really _had_ left Briton with nothing. Of course it was inevitably swallowed up by its enemies…Norsemen and French alike.

Saber's eyes stung, but she kept firm, snapping her heels together and lifting her chin, her hands balled into fists at her side. "Of course, Irisviel. I'll be as strong for you as you need me to be."

It was at those words that Irisviel found it in herself to turn around again, and give Saber that smile of hers again, that same smile she'd given her on the night the two of them had walked together on the moonlit beach.

* * *

As the sun was setting into a brilliant blend of tangerine and white, Saber stood outside of the shed while Irisviel was inside of it, using the magic circle Saber had helped her draw. Apparently it was supposed to help her regain lost strength and energy, but given what Irisviel had just told her, it was nothing more than a crutch to help keep her going as the War carried on.

Now Saber was thinking of Kiritsugu again, and wondering if he knew anything about this. If he didn't, somehow Saber felt it would be unkind, cruel even, to tell him about it. It was like when she'd found Irisviel hurt in the woods, seemingly on the brink of death, and she'd dreaded calling Kiritsugu for what she'd known in her heart at the time would be nothing more than a goodbye.

On the other hand, if he _did_ know about it (which was more likely, he was after all, her husband), she had to wonder at how a man like him internalized such a thing. She was already in no doubt that Kiritsugu loved his wife, whatever else he might be. But was it possible that he had known about this from the very beginning? How sad that would be, to fall in love with someone already knowing that one day, they would endure something like this, and there was nothing anyone could do about it? It was like falling in love with someone with a deadly, incurable disease. Someone who was so precious to you, already slipping away, so quickly you could feel it, _feel_ them dying every time you kissed them.

It was too sad to bear thinking about.

Against her will, Saber felt herself on the verge of tears again. She fought them back, mercilessly, hardening her heart as best as she could. She had done it before, damn it. Why couldn't she do it now? She might not be able to make herself not feel at all, but she had at least built herself up more sternly and stoutly than this.

She took several deep breaths, pursing her lips, grinding her teeth, until she'd shoved everything down, as far as she could, down into the deep depths of herself when she kept hidden all the dark things inside of her. She ironed her forehead with the heel of her hand, and gradually the shaking stop and that sense of her heart breaking evaporated. Her mind found Kiritsugu again, and somehow that made it easier, seeing how coldly he carried himself. Though she imagined, given what she had seen of his childhood in that dream, that he too had born a struggle like this, alone, on more than one occasion.

Of course, he was a man, and such things, like hiding and holding back tears, were expected of him, she supposed. Some things never changed, even from the time when she'd been alive so long ago. Indeed, the one time she had seen a man cry, it had been Sir Ector, and he thought he'd been alone, and she'd never told him that she'd seen him. It had actually shaken her to see him that way.

That was why she'd made her own vows to never cry too.

And it was true.

Not since she'd been very small, had she ever come so close to crying like she was now. Nor was she about to break that pattern. Not now, when the last thing Irisviel needed was for her to shed tears for her. Yet something about Irisviel…made tears such a threat to her all of sudden, like they hadn't in such a long time.

Then she felt it.

A ripple of mana, like an echo from far away.

Her head snapped up, her sorrow for Irisviel forgotten completely as she began to sense in her very veins that some distance away, a large amount of magical activity was gathering.

That was when Maiya appeared, having driven back to the house here, and Saber was more than sure that she was here to tell them about something bad that had just happened, or was going to happen.

Saber stepped forward to meet her as she approached the shed.

"What's happened?" she asked.

Maiya stopped, maybe even a little surprised that Saber was already aware there was a situation. "There's something going on at the Mion River," she reported, once she seemingly came back to her senses. "More than likely, it's Caster."

"Caster…." Just saying that name left a bad taste in Saber's mouth. More than that, it woke up the angry part of her that was always raring for a fight, that part that always kept her going even in the depths of her exhaustion and despair.

"Then the time to strike him down is now," she said. "If he's planning something big, I don't think it's anything at all good."

The door to the shed slid open behind her, and Irisivel appeared, still looking peaky but at least not breaking out in a sweat like earlier. And in her red eyes there was a fire that had as yet not gone out.

"We'd better meet him then, hadn't we, Saber?" she said, and gave that smile that was so mischievous it bordered on being something just a shade darker, even for someone as pure as her.

But it lit a fire in Saber too, and she returned Irisviel's smile with one of her own, the kind a mongoose might grin before taking on a cobra.

She held out a hand to Irisviel. "What do you say then? Let's give him hell."


	8. The Flower of the Battlefield

**Chapter Eight**

 **The Flower of the Battlefield**

Saber drove again. This time though, she was too preoccupied with what Caster could be up to to let the fact that Irisviel couldn't drive bother her like earlier.

She had memorized Maiya's directions perfectly, following them all the way across town to the Mion River. From the crest of the last hill before they reached it, she and Irisviel could already make out an aura of violet mana lighting up the sky.

"This looks bad." Irisviel's voice quavered with palpable fear.

If Saber wasn't driving and in such a hurry, she might have reached over and squeezed her hand on an impulse of platonic reassurance. Instead, all she could do was say, "That's why we're here," as she shifted gears and increased her foot's pressure on the Mercedes' accelerator.

Once they reached the bottom of the hill she could see a patch of grass that she could drive onto to get closer to the river. She fishtailed as she skidded to a stop and barely shut the engine off before she burst from the car, sprinting down the declivity that led the rest of the way to the riverbank below.

The sky was saturated with steamy purple mana, and its source was a tentaculous monstrosity frothily expanding in size, growing into a gargantuan behemoth that dominated the Mion River.

In Saber's time, they had had stories about dragons, and the brave warriors who slew them. Now it seemed, she would be give a dragon of her own to slay, in the form of this titanic terror. Despite how disgusting its appearance was to her, she still went slack-jawed at the sheer size of it, as did many of the very tiny onlookers gathering on both sides of the river. Like Saber, they too gawked, and many of them pointed and cried out.

This was really bad, teetering on the edge of getting out of hand. She was aware that non-mages and or anyone not involved in the Holy Grail War were not supposed to bear witness to its activity. Incidents could be explained away on a small scale, and of course, if there was one or two innocents who were to stumble across something like a pair of Servants in battle, they had to be eliminated without hesitation.

But this.

Nothing could explain this, no matter what the Holy Church or the Mages Association did. Whether or not they decided to just have all these witnesses killed.

A bolt of lightning nearby jerked Saber out of her horrified awe of the monster, and then Rider's oxen-pulled chariot appeared, Rider's Master accompanying him again in back.

"Saber! I see you've made your way here too." Rider drew up beside her and tugged the reins to make the oxen stop. "That's certainly an ugly sight." He nodded to the monster in the river.

"It is indeed, and Caster's doing no less," said Saber with contempt. She balled her gloved hands into fists. "We'll have to act quickly if we want to eliminate this creature."

Rider stroked his ginger beard. "So how exactly would we go about doing that? I don't think anyone can take this thing on alone."

"Saber!"

Saber turned and saw Irisviel making her way down to the riverbank. Saber met her halfway, catching her by the arms and giving her a chance to get her breath. She was already starting to look peaky again, and Saber was starting to regret bringing her with her.

"Irisviel, maybe…."

But Irisviel beamed at her, as if she already knew what she was going to say. "Don't worry, Saber, I'm fine." Her smile fell and she set her jaw, knitting her brows in a frown that made her red eyes flare at the sight of the monster in the water. "Caster."

Saber followed her glare. Peering closer into the depths of that cephalpodic beast, she was able to pick him out. Just barely. Caster, laughing maniacally in the bubbly folds of the creature, and in his arms, that damned Grimoire.

Rider's Master, unusually calm and collected (for the moment anyway), leaned out of the side of the chariot, addressing Irisivel. "Hey Einzbern, we heard that you guys already fought Caster once before. What can you tell us about how to fight him?"

Saber was admittedly impressed at the young man's initiative. She wondered if Rider's confident posture wasn't rubbing off on him, despite how small and lacking in experience he seemed.

"Just that that monster is a creature of Caster's own conjuring," said Irisviel with admirable determination. "We defeat Caster and the monster disappears."

"We need to strike that book of his," added Saber, turning back to Rider. "That appears to be the source of his mana. As for his Master, or his or her whereabouts, I couldn't say."

"Yes, Caster appears to be the wild card in all of this," Irisviel agreed.

"At this point though, I think it's safe to say that if we destroy the Grimoire, then all our problems concerning Caster are solved," Saber surmised.

"Good thinking," Rider complimented, and he actually raised his red eyebrows in appreciation of Saber's strategical ability. Even if he did refuse to acknowledge her as a king.

But Saber could leave that aside for the moment, at least until she could prove to him her worth. It wouldn't be the first time for her to have to do so.

"How will we get to it though?" Rider went on, examining the monster again. "I don't imagine those tentacles will just stay limp and let us in."

As he said this, said tentacles started to flail and wriggle more violently, and one or two of them smacked the edge of the river, breaking the concrete that walled it in. Several of the onlookers close to where the damage occurred cried out and leapt back out of harm's way, mothers tugging back their children, boyfriends tugging back their girlfriends, husbands their wives.

Saber considered her cursed left hand for a moment, as it occurred to her that Excalibur was in fact an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm, which meant that—if she had the proper use of both hands of course—she could wipe out this monster along with Caster all in one blow. That would be the quickest and easiest way to deal with this thing.

However, seeing as how her left hand was impaired by Lancer's curse, she was incapable of using Excalibur in such a manner.

She had her own pride and that of Excalibur's to consider though. She was determined to lift this curse with her honor intact, which meant defeating Lancer in honorable combat. She'd be damned if she was going to resort to something akin to blackmail and just…find a way to force Lancer to lift the curse. And of course, given the direness of the situation, time was not on their side to allow her and Lancer to find a way to duke it out beforehand. Caster's defeat took priority over all else at this point, considering how badly this problem was hemorrhaging.

Luckily there was an alternative. It was a bit more difficult, but at least it wouldn't tarnish her nobility as the King of Knights.

"Listen, we'll have to work together," she finally said as she looked up, without even considering the possibility that other Servants would refuse the idea of teaming up to defeat this thing. "We'll need more than just the two of us, of course, but if we can coordinate our attacks right…."

Just as she was saying this, they were joined by a third Servant. Lancer himself materialized out of his Spirit Form in waves of mana, and picking up Saber's train of thought, he said, "We can draw Caster out, and leave him wide open for someone to strike that magic book of his." Then he gave a very debonair wink, one that left Saber to suspect with some amusement that it wasn't just the mole that had charmed women in his previous life. "Leave that part to me."

Then he threw Saber a knowing grin, and Saber realized they were thinking the same thing. Do like what they did in the Einzbern forest, but on a bigger scale. And this time, the power of Lancer's Gáe Dearg—the Crimson Rose of Exorcism—would eliminate Caster for good.

Rider glanced between Saber and Lancer, sensing the connection between them. "Ah, I see. This is not the first time the two of you have tag-teamed." His own grin was broad. "Well, then, allow me to be a third party in your alliance."

"Wait a second, Rider, what're you planning on doing?" demanded Rider's Master, his voice cracking as though he were on the edge of shrieking in panic.

So much for that calm and collected demeanor.

"Think I'll lead the charge," said Rider, as if his Master hadn't said anything. "Saber, would you permit it?"

Saber blinked, taken aback at Rider's deference to her, again, considering what he'd said to her when last they'd spoken. But she accepted his offer with a smile. "And I'll follow behind."

Rider frowned in confusion. "Quite admirable of you, to be sure, but I don't see how you'll be able to manage that."

"Eh?"

"Well, Lancer can no doubt throw his spear as an Olympian might throw a javelin, while remaining here on the shore, and hit his target straight and true when the time comes, and of course, my Gordious Wheel here can fly. But you. I don't see how _you_ can overcome the obstacle of the river."

At this, Saber gave Rider a cheeky smile. "Ah, but you see, Rider, I am blessed by the Lady of the Lake, and can walk on the surface of any body of water."

Here Rider was outwardly impressed. "My, that is indeed a rare and admirable gift."

"After you then?"

"Ha! Naturally."

Now Rider's grin was manic, all teeth and full of the glee he clearly felt riding into battle. He shook the reins on his oxen again and spurred them into a gallop with a, "Hee-yah!" The chariot took off and climbed up into the air, Rider's Master wailing all the way.

"Saber," said Irisviel in a small voice.

Saber looked at her. "Irisviel?"

Irisviel was smiling again, but it was full of concern too. "Please, be careful."

Softening, and wanting to reassure her, Saber took her lady's hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Don't worry. This ends here tonight." Then she relinquished her hold on Irisviel and turned to make for the river.

She sprang forward at a sprint, dashing over the waters of the Mion River, her feet skimming the surface of the water, light as a feather, smooth as silk. With a wave of her hand, she magicked her armor on in a flash of light and mana, the hilt of Excalibur, hidden once more by the steam of Invisible Air, coming into her hand. She flew over the little waves of the river, coming upon her gigantic quarry.

"This is where you meet your end, Caster!" she cried, before she flew forward and struck the blade of Excalibur down on the first tree-trunk-thick tentacle that reached for her.

Problem was though, no matter how many times Saber slashed and hacked at the monster's tentacles with her blade, no matter how fiercely Rider attacked the thing as he flew overhead in his chariot, the hewn flesh not only repaired itself, but multiplied. It seemed that as long as there was an active mana source, this thing could regenerate so rapidly that it made Hercules's fight against the many-headed hydra look like child's play. More than once, Saber had to come in and rescue Rider as the tentacles tried to strangle the chariot's braying oxen, but then Rider returned the favor readily when Saber found herself in a similar bind.

In the amount of time Saber and Rider took struggling to give Lancer the opening he needed, two jet planes had swooped in overhead. One of them was ensnared by the monster and eaten by means of it absorbing it into its body, pilot and all. The other appeared to have become…possessed as it started to fly about erratically. Perhaps the pilot in that one had gone insane after seeing the way his comrade had died.

Then again, even from down below, Saber sensed a flicker of mana that possessed a black and manic energy to it, and had a feeling that something really _had_ possessed it.

Nearby, she also spotted what looked like an aircraft made of gold, floating above them all like some divine, impassive bird. She had a sneaking suspicion that that had to be Archer, for who else would helm such a garish vehicle?

But she didn't have time to ponder on it further.

Rider was calling a timeout. Saber nodded and sliced through three more tentacles in order to break free from the monster's reach and join Rider and Lancer back on the riverbank with Irisviel.

"This task is proving tantamount to rolling a boulder up a hill only to have it crash back into us," said Lancer miserably, holding out his Gáe Dearg. "I can't do a thing if I can't get a clear shot at his Grimoire."

"This is insane!" Rider's Master lamented. "What're we supposed to do now?" The young man furiously scratched his head and scowled as though he were actually thinking seriously, in spite of how panicked he'd been not a moment before.

"I've an idea," said Rider, "mind you, it's a temporary solution, a means to at least contain the situation long enough to buy us more time to think of a better alternative to our original plan." He glanced at his Master.

His Master caught his eye. "You mean…your Reality Marble? You think you can trap that thing inside of it?"

Rider nodded. "Not indefinitely, but I believe my armies can fend the thing off within the confines of such a sphere of space long enough to find a way to destroy Caster and his monster completely."

And before his Master could raise any kind of protest, Rider nabbed him up by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him out of the chariot.

"Hey, wait!" Rider's Master exclaimed, actually waving his arms and legs about in a futile attempt to free himself from his Servant's grasp. Though Rider did pause, letting him dangle over the ground. "So…that means you're leaving me out of it?"

"Of course," said Rider, as though it were obvious. "I need you here. You're the only connection I'll have to what's going outside the Marble. You'll be able to contact me. With a single thought, you can summon one of my soldiers here to relay information back to me. We both have our parts to play, after all. And I trust you."

Rider's Master blinked at him for a moment, and then nodded, again with that newfound sobriety. Rider did the same and then set his Master down in the muddy riverbank. After which he snapped the reins on his oxen with a rather wolfish grin as he took off into the air once more, and the rest of them watched as he cast the magic for his Reality Marble and swallowed up Caster and his monster inside of it, making them all vanish out of sight.

For a moment, the world felt stiller for Caster's monster having been plucked out of this space, but when it came back, it would only come back stronger and more terrifying.

But then, above them, another duel was taking place, one between the garish golden craft and the possessed fighter jet as the latter zigzagged erratically across the sky.

Then it swooped down low, and everyone had to duck as it swept overhead with a powerful gust of air. As Saber had taken it upon herself to take a protective crouch over Irisviel, she caught a glimpse of what exactly had control of the thing, riding it like a mad bull—well, if the rider were mad rather than the bull, so a mad bull- _rider_.

 _Berserker._

Having it pass by her like this, she felt again that thrill of the black, manic aura it gave off. It looked as though she'd been right to guess that the jet had in fact been possessed. Berserker had turned the thing into his Noble Phantasm, just as he had done with the streetlamp in the shipping yard.

In his wake, Berserker let out his roar of untamable fury, and something about it echoed deep in Saber's chest. Then she stood cautiously with everyone else as Berserker brought the plane back up to reengage with Archer's golden craft in their dogfight.

Rider's Master felt the need to summon a messenger from Rider's army within the Reality Marble to let him know what was going on, and worse still, the soldier informed them that the battle with Caster's monster wasn't going so well.

"So then," said Rider's Master in a mixture of pondering urgency, "there's got to be a better way to go about this. Obviously, hacking that thing to pieces won't work, not even just for the sake of providing an opening." He scratched his chin and then looked directly over at Irisviel. "Come on Einzbern: don't _you_ have any ideas?"

Irisviel seemed to withdraw into herself, looking sheepish. Saber was admittedly crestfallen at this lack of strategic thoughtfulness on Irisviel's part, though it was here that she was beginning to see the little chinks in Irisviel's personage that revealed the "puppet" part of herself. Which made her consider the idea that much of the inspirational words that came from her mouth might have been fed to her by Kiritsugu when he'd been teaching her about the world like she'd said.

At the same time though, the earnestness behind those words was undoubtedly genuine. It was like she were trying to sing a song written in a foreign language that she didn't know how to speak. She knew the basic emotion that the song conveyed from hearing a native speaker sing it, but when she herself did it, she had no consciousness of the nuances of feelings provided by understanding the actual words.

At the very least though, she wasn't the only one who was at a loss as to what to do next.

Then a phone Irisviel had with her went off. Everyone jumped in surprise, but Irisviel seemed the most surprised even though she was the one who had the phone. She nearly dropped it went it started ringing, fumbled helplessly with it for a moment, and then, not knowing what else to do, held it out to the others.

"Um…I don't know how to use this!" she admitted miserably.

"Here." Rider's Master took the phone from her, flipped it open, and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

Everyone stood tense as they listened to Rider's Master's side of the conversation, but Saber knew it had to be Kiritsugu on the other end.

And he appeared to end the call abruptly judging by the way Rider's Master's stunned expression slackened and he pulled his ear away from the phone to stare at it perplexedly for a moment.

"So," Lancer prompted. "What's going on then?"

Rider's Master looked up at them, still a little baffled but managing to regain his presence of mind. He directed his words at Lancer as he handed Irisviel back the phone.

"He said…to give you a message…that Saber has an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm."

All eyes snapped on Saber.

"Saber, is this true?" Lancer demanded.

Now it was Saber's turn to be sheepish.

 _Damn it, Kiritsugu. There's a reason I kept that to myself. But you knew that already, didn't you?_ She even wondered if the man had already done something like sniped Caster's Master. Though if he did, it appeared to have been a fruitless effort, as Caster's magic was indeed hardly if at all dependent on whoever his Master had been to supply him with mana.

The way things were going though, that thing was just getting bigger, and soon it would need more than just mana to satisfy itself. It would begin to feed. On people.

Finally Saber admitted, "Yes, It's true." Then she met his nonplussed expression and found herself smiling, predicting what he was already thinking. "But Lancer," she told him, "my blade and my pride are the same. This wound you gave me—" She gave a faint flick of her left wrist. "—is a mark of that pride. I don't wish to tarnish that by cheapening the victory of Diarmiud ua Duibhne had over me. I intend to see this curse lifted as it should, with my defeating you in combat. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lancer stared at her a moment before smiling rather knowingly. "And I would expect no less of the King of Knights. However…." He planted his Gae Dearg in the grass, and raised his Gáe Buidhe, the Yellow Rose of Mortality, taking the golden spear in both hands. "This vileness that Caster brings, I cannot abide it any more than you can. And if this will help us to achieve victory, then I will gladly perform the act."

"Lancer, wait—"

But it was too late. With one twist of his hands, Lancer cracked his golden staff in two, and broke the magic within it. The staff dissipated into the air after it burst into a dissolve of a golden light that released Saber's left hand from its curse.

Saber felt it as poison being drawn out from inside of her. Sensing the change, she shifted her attention from the light given off by the Gáe Buidhe's magic dissipating in the air and started to flex the fingers of her left hand experimentally, and couldn't help a rush of joy and gratitude at her regaining proper use of it.

With fresh determination, she gripped the hilt of Excalibur in both hands. "Thank you, Lancer. I will not forget what you have done here. Your sacrifice shall not be in vain."

Deep down though, she sincerely hoped that this worthy knight of Ireland would not come to regret the decision he had just made, mostly because if that were to happen, it would be because of her, because of what he did here for her when he didn't have to, when she had been prepared to spare him that. More than ever, she intended to pay him back for what he had done, even in defeating him when next they dueled.

Channeling the magic she wielded through her sword, she lifted it high, unveiling its glory for the others to see.

Everyone stood there, gaping with awe. Rider's Master murmured something about, "From the Arthurian legends…" with quiet admiration. A life he must have spend poring over books about this old sword of hers, summed up in just a few words.

Another one of those strange reminders of who she had been, and what her life had been in this world to everyone who didn't know her.

Then Saber turned to the river. Behind her, she heard Rider's Master order the soldier to tell Rider to release Caster's monster from the prison of the Reality Marble.

But just as the monster was appearing again, Berserker swooped down with the fighter jet again, this time aiming directly for Saber, leaving her with no other choice but to leap out of the way, leaping back out onto the water and escaping the oncoming collision by the skin of her teeth.

"Saber!" Irisviel cried out, reaching for her, but that just made Saber all the more determined to draw Berserker away from her and the others.

 _Damn you, Berserker, and just when I got the use of my left hand back._

Lancer leapt up and hopped on top of Berserker in midair, attempting to take the madman out himself with is Gáe Dearg, but to no avail as he was quickly thrown back. Though being the nimble Lancer that he was, he landed deftly on his feet like a cat.

Saber darted like a warrior fairy towards the middle of the river, and then skidded to a halt and turned about, lifting her sword, ready to face this other enemy head on.

"This ends here!" she declared. _I don't know what you want with me, Berserker, but at this point, I really don't care. You're in my way._

Glaring up at Berserker as he dive-bombed her from above, roaring with the fury of the Spirit of Vengeance, something possessed her just as Berserker had possessed that plane. Possessed her…just for a moment.

Something darker, more sinister. Something born of years of regret and frustration. Something she had only felt whisper inside her once or twice before. Something that the thought of Kiritsugu tended to tease out of her, though without meaning to—it was just something about him that tugged at it, coaxed it to come to the surface.

This she now felt far more strongly, to the point that it threatened to swallow her up from the inside, that darkness of ambition, that ruthless determination to see her goal to the end, and cut down anyone or anything that tried to stop her without hesitation, without mercy.

 _I am a king who cannot understand others_ , her thoughts echoing the last words Lancelot had spoken to her before departing from Camelot, from her world, forever. _Even I can't understand_ me _sometimes._

She bared her teeth, relishing in the reawakening of the bloodlust inside of her.

Only for a blast of golden light to shoot right through the plane, breaking Berserker away from the jet he'd taken over, and both fell with a crash into the water some distance away.

Saber snapped her head up to where she'd seen the golden light come from, and her eyes met the red ones of Archer, standing predictably atop that golden craft. Just where she knew he would be.

Right in that moment, her bloodlust for Berserker transferred to the distaste she already held for Archer, and she _really_ wanted to smack that smirk off his face with the flat of Excalibur's blade.

But then she became aware that Caster's monster had been fully dropped back into the river, and that the way for her was clear to take it out. She would have to leave Archer for another time, provided she lasted long enough (no, she _would_ last long enough), and settle with begrudging gratitude for what he had done for her. Though something told her that for him there had been no selfless impulse behind it in the least.

She drew herself up to her full height and lifted her sword before her once again, stepping forward as light gathered about her in sync with her gathering up the power within her and channeling it into Excalibur again. This created a golden pool of light thrown onto the water around her, cast by that light.

And from afar, more lights emerged from the earth, like fireflies, like spirits from the grave. Every one of those lights was precious, and powerful, beautiful and so very golden.

As she raised her sword high with the point of its blade directed towards the heavens, and faced Caster's monster, she felt not a shred of fear. Instead she felt the power flooding within her…felt it as the hope that she had always seen shining in the eyes of her people every single day of her life, every time she rode out to battle and they lined up along either side of her to see her and her army off.

The hope that carried her through every time she watched a friend and comrade fall into death's darkness on the battlefield.

The hope that would always fuel their victory.

Had she been weaker in her heart, it might have brought tears to her eyes. But she kept her eyes dry, confronting her enemy with the kind of rage that was somehow angelic in its ferocity.

The word rose to her lips…and even though she couldn't see him, she could feel Caster quailing within the folds of his monster…he knew that his time had come, her light already overwhelming him.

And then she cried it out, and felt those ghosts of hope cry it out with her:

" _EX…CALIBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR_!"

Then she brought the sword down in one mighty stroke, splitting the water asunder, as its power and light blasted through and swallowed up the entirety of Caster's monster with the brightness of a supernova.

And though Saber had used so much power all at once, when the light disappeared with Caster's monster, and Caster with it, she didn't feel the least bit drained. In fact, she felt stronger, lowering Excalibur's blade and standing before the place where her enemy had been erased from the earth, solemn and resolute, her golden hair caught in the dying breeze.

As the golden lights faded with Excalibur's power, Saber felt a fulfillment she hadn't felt in what felt like a very long time. All along the river, she could see the crowds of gathered people all cheering, waves of relief rippling through them. She caught that relief in her chest, that simple relief from not being too late to save those who were in trouble.

She smiled to herself, reveling in her ability to feel happy, even if just for a twinkling.

Then she sensed a pair of eyes on her…those eyes red with desire.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she lifted her gaze again. She tracked where she felt the watcher's eyes coming from, to the top of the bright red Mion River Bridge.

There was no one there anymore. But she knew there had been just a moment ago, and what was more, she knew who it had been too.

 _Archer…._

Then she sensed a different pair of eyes, cold and somehow sadly familiar. More familiar than she ever could have guessed until that very moment.

Their stare came from the lower riverbank, closer to where she still stood upon the lapping water. She turned, and her green eyes found Kiritsugu's dark ones. He stood there, still and straight. In one hand he held the rope to a raft he seemed to have been dragging along with him. Had he watched her as she had unleashed Excalibur's power? Watched as the magic she had earned through her years of living a chivalric life paid the price for a noble victory?

Though he had vowed, it seemed, not to speak a word to her, at this very moment, he did not look away. So Saber didn't either.

They both stood where they were, gazes locked and unwavering.

Saber wasn't sure how to describe it…but she felt… _something_ between them. Part of it could have simply had to do with their pact as Master and Servant, yet she had a feeling that there was a little more to it where the two of them were concerned. Something that bound them at their cores, even when everything above was so frayed and distant.

She could see, in those eyes, how they had once held such sparkling vitality, how they had been that scared boy on that island, his life forever changed by one trauma, a happening that would decide the path he would walk for the rest of his life.

Saber knew a thing or two about happenings like that.

She could almost hear the _shink_ of Caliburn's blade sliding out of the stone when she'd pulled it out. No. She _could_ hear it, clear as a bell, and ringing between her and Kiritsugu.

She supposed that if he were the sort of Master who would do so, this would have been when he would have said, "Good job." Or something like that.

But of course, he said nothing.

Yet there was an air about him…one of sobering nostalgia…like a dream fading from memory, leaving behind only the emotion stirred up within the dreamer.

Then he turned away, tugging the raft with him and melting into and becoming one with the shadows.

Saber stared after him though, just a bit longer, finding herself suddenly on the precipice of the light that surrounded her, peering over the edge, and into the darkness below.

Such a precarious place to perch.

Then she broke from her reverie at the call of Irisviel's voice from the other bank, and all the sadness for Irisviel that had been pressing on her heart earlier came crashing back into her, like water violently flooding. It washed over her heart, and she could only think more sadly of how the flower was wilting, and its lover was leaving her alone again.


	9. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Chapter Nine**

 **Blood, Sweat, and Tears**

Saber had a memory from the last battle that she and Lancelot had fought side by side in, and a very distinct piece of that memory was an image of Lancelot standing on their field of victory, presiding over the fields of the dead, as he watched the dawn rising over the distant hills. There was no sound except the hollow echo of the wind, Briton's banners snapping in it.

Then Lancelot had looked over his shoulder at Saber and smiled. And Saber had smiled back. In that moment, she had thought to herself, _There is nothing that can break this bond. I am glad that I have at least one person in my life who is the closest thing I will ever have to a friend._

Saber held that image in her mind now, staring at it like one transfixed by a photograph, her heart a riot of joy and grief. Lost in such ruminations, her mind was slightly clouded when she heard a voice call, "Saber." A very sweet and gentle voice.

Her ears pricked up, and she looked round, a little bemused, and found Irisviel had joined her in where she was sitting on the roof of the storehouse back at the abandoned Japanese domicile they were now based in.

"Huh?"

Irisviel smiled at her. "Lost in thought, are we?" she teased.

Saber blinked, and then the present came back to her, and she found herself suddenly fretful. "Wait…Irisviel! What're you doing up here? You should be resting, shouldn't you? You still don't look all that well." If she were more willing to be openly honest about it, she'd have added, "Actually, you look a little worse than you did before."

But Irisviel was beaming, bathed as she was in the silver moonlight from above, as she titled her face up to look at the luminous orb hung above them. "That really _is_ breathtaking," she sighed. "I just had to come and see for myself. Especially since you were up here too." She looked at Saber again. "You had this curious air about you."

Saber frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you seemed almost…fey," Irisviel told her, her cheeks coloring a little (though not in a way that made her look all that much healthier or any less peaky). "I was intrigued. I wanted to see if I could still talk to you like a normal person." She giggled lightly. "It seems I can."

"Oh. I see." Unable to help herself, Saber smiled a little at this. "Well, I assure you, I'm no fairy. Fairies, you see, are wicked, deceitful things that like to mess with human beings' minds."

"Mmm. Nowadays though, fairies have been made a little prettier and a little sweeter than they were before. Being fey isn't so bad as it used to be."

"Well, in that case, I think between you and me, you are more the fairy than I am."

They shared a laugh and looked up at the moon again, together.

"That aside, you really _should_ be getting some rest."

"Well, I would, but I have a feeling that Kiritsugu is going to contact us. I want to be ready when he does."

"What gives you that feeling?"

"Just that I know he has this way of working tirelessly through things. Between you and me, he wants this War over and done with as soon as possible. I don't know all that much about how he fights, but he's seen war in the past—regular, mundane, human war—and from what I've read, nothing like rest exists in things like that. Only illusions of it."

Saber looked at her companion and tilted her head to one side. "You really _do_ know him, don't you?"

Irisviel shook her head. "Not really. No, let me rephrase that. I…do and I don't. I do know _that_. I know what he wants, what he dreams of, what feelings he holds so close in his heart and tries so hard to protect, lock away from the rest of the world so no one can see, but I don't know…how he really works. The most I know was that he was a killer for hire—they called him 'The Mage Killer', after all, and that wasn't without good reason. As far as who he killed, all I ever learned was that they were heretic mages committing unsavory deeds. And that was good enough for me."

"You were never concerned with _how_ he made those kills then?"

"I know that it involved him working from the shadows, like he's doing now. So, I didn't really feel I needed to know anything more than that. Besides, he wouldn't have told me even if I asked. He doesn't like talking about that part of himself with me."

Saber didn't miss the hint of wistfulness at the end of her words. And while Irisviel appeared satisfied enough that Kiritsugu's reason for doing what he did was to eliminate evil for the sake of good, Saber had other ideas. His intentions may have been noble in their own way, but she had a feeling that the way he worked undermined all of that. The fact that he preferred working from the shadows was enough of a red flag to her that something about him, something deeper, didn't sit right with her.

She had this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that threatened to turn into something that would nauseate her.

Even so, he had somehow earned Irisviel's love. That much was clear. And truth be told, she thought it a rather beautiful thing. A solemn beauty, like that of the moon.

Her thoughts briefly drifted back to Guinevere, and to Lancelot again, only for her reverie to be interrupted again by another voice.

"Saber! Madam!"

Saber and Irisviel both looked round and saw Maiya had joined them on the roof. To Saber she seemed like a shadow incarnate.

"Maiya," she said.

"I've just gotten a call from Kiritsugu," Maiya informed them. "He's discovered the hideout of Lancer and his Master."

Though Maiya's eyes were as unreadable as ever, Saber felt something faintly sinister about them, and caught just the merest whisper of…blood. Which made her wonder for a moment where Maiya had been the whole time Saber and Irisviel had been down by the Mion River. When Maiya had come to tell them that trouble from Caster was brewing there, she'd gone off in her own car while Saber had taken Irisviel with her in the Mercedes.

This time it was no different. When Saber hit the ground after helping Irisviel down from the ladder propped against the side of the storehouse, Maiya was already off, jumping into her own car, leaving Saber to take Irisviel with her in the Mercedes again, with only Maiya's info to rely on as far as finding this location where supposedly Lancer and his Master were hiding out.

Although this didn't sit well with Saber either, she was compelled to obey her Master's orders. And in any case, she had to agree that if this was a means to get her and Lancer together so they could finish their duel, then now was the time to do it, while all other Servant-Master pairs appeared to be down for the night.

* * *

It was supposed to be some kind of building site, more than likely abandoned than being a project that was mid-construction. To Saber though, when she saw it, she felt like she'd stepped into the ancient ruins of a long-forgotten city. It had a funereal feel to it, sepulchral, and she half-expected ghosts to appear from the shadows.

For a moment, she thought one had, when she spotted a tall and lithe male figure emerge from beneath the skeleton of a single-storied building held up only by support columns. But then the otherworldly light of the moon resolved the man's image into that of Lancer, who had a guarded air about himself. He looked slightly vulnerable too, carrying only the one spear.

"It's just like Kiritsugu said," said Irisviel in the front passenger seat beside Saber.

Saber wasn't really of answering Irisviel or not as she put the brakes on the Mercedes and shifted into "park". Her eyes were fixed on the approaching Lancer as she stepped out of the car.

Lancer stopped, seeming to have just realized that it was her. "Saber…." He furrowed his brow. "What are you doing here? How did you find this place?"

Saber tried not to avoid his questioning gaze as she responded to his query. "My ah…sources…told me about this place." She felt even more uneasy with how less-than-friendly the set to Lancer's golden eyes were.

Then he said: "It would seem…that my Master's lady has gone missing. You…wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No, not at all," said Saber, nonplussed, but she was glad that Lancer seemed to believe her.

"I see," he said, and hefted his spear, redder than blood, even in the light of the moon washing out all other colors. "Then I assume," he went on, "that you've come here so that we might finish our duel from the beginning?"

"I have," Saber answered him. "Everyone else will be recuperating after the battle with Caster tonight. I figured…this would be an opportune time for us to face each other one last time in honorable combat."

At this, Lancer finally smiled that smile of his, his brow relaxing. He shook his head, regarding Saber fondly. "Ah King of Knights…I must admit that it is your sense of honor, still shining bright in a world so dark with deceit and betrayals of trust, that brings my heart peace. Especially in this moment."

Saber smiled back at him, the knot of her discomfort loosening slightly. "Yes. As does yours."

Beside her, she heard the click of the front passenger door of the Mercedes open and the crunch of gravel as Irisviel stepped out of the car and joined her.

Lancer assumed a fighting stance, lifting his spear up at the ready. "Shall we dance one last time then?" he invited, a little more of that handsome, charismatic magic shimmering off of him.

"Gladly." Saber stepped forward, further out into the open, donning her armor in a whirl of silvery, light-as-air mana. She held up Excalibur, assuming a fighting stance as well. Once again she had the blade of her sword concealed behind the veil of Invisible Air. "I am ready, Diarmud...come and get me," she coaxed, feeling the old beast of blood-lust uncurl from its slumber and stretch out her claws eagerly towards the sun.

Lancer's expression was beyond eager, and it sparked something in Saber's heart, quickening its beat.

"Very well then, Saber…prepare yourself: I come for you!"

And the two of them leapt towards each other and met in the middle, sword clashing against spear with a great metallic clang that rang in the lonely little building site. It seemed fitting that such a legendary duel should take place in so humble and insignificant a place, but then, Saber supposed, any place for a duel to take place could be considered just that. Just another part of the world that would inevitably absorb the footfalls that would echo into eternity.

And, one to learn from her mistakes, Saber was more wary of how Lancer used his spear, even if it was now his only one. At the very least, she had the advantage that he could strike her no more cursing blows. But to compensate for this, she did Lancer the courtesy of refusing to use her left hand, as if it still didn't work properly.

They traded blow for blow, coming together and then springing back, circling each other before coming for each other again. So equally matched they were that it was difficult for one to do anything like corner the other, or send the other back into a retreat. Saber dodged the jabs from Lancer's spear and then swung up her blade, striking a blow that Lancer only barely blocked. Even without employing the use of her now-working left hand, she was holding her own handily against him, as before, when they first met.

Something soft settled inside her as she kept her green eyes locked with his golden ones, beneath all the bays for blood roaring inside of her. Her heart thundered in her chest at how bound the two of them were by their shared enthusiasm for this battle, enough that she had the feeling that neither of them really wanted to finish it. For this moment, Saber could have stayed this way forever, without any regrets.

Even so, the next time they leapt back from each other, Lancer put up his guard and used the momentary pause between them.

He frowned at Saber again, but this time out of confusion.

"Saber…you're not using your left hand?"

Saber felt her face grow warm, just a little. So he'd noticed.

She straightened and gave him a proud grin. "I do not believe that I would truly be engaging honorably in this duel if I did not refrain from using that which should have been useless to begin with, were it not for your sacrifice. I would not insult what part you played in Caster's defeat, as dear a cost as it was to you, by exploiting it here."

Lancer dropped his guard for a moment, blinking, clearly taken aback. And then he smiled, this time with a strange sheepishness, as though it were too much for Arturia Pendragon to address him with such humble reverence. His cheeks even colored a little, and he seemed much more youthful for it.

"Saber…you truly are king of _all_ knights, aren't you?" Then he pointed at her, puffing out his chest. "Pride is in the blade of chivalry! Saber…I am truly glad to have had this chance to meet you."

Now it was Saber's turn to be taken back, but her cheeks colored again too, and she nodded, approvingly, amiably. "And I you, Lancer."

And then they came at each other once again.

Saber lost herself even more to the beast within her that cried for blood, but not in the way where she fell into a frenzy of hacking at her opponent until she could make him bleed. It was more like savoring the taste of blood yet to come, fervent with anticipation of the duel's climax. In fact, it reminded her of the way she and Guinevere had made love, when she'd been granted that unnatural power to change her sex so that she might father a child as Briton's king. She could even let go of the guilt that normally followed, given the child that had resulted from that union, that poor, cursed Mordred.

Yet just as she was thinking this, she felt a savage wind blow through her, the same savage wind that had done such on the day she ran Mordred through. For a flickering moment, she was back on that bloody field underneath that hellish sky, watching the life recede from Mordred's shocked eyes before death was triumphant.

Only this time, it was the life in Lancer's eyes—in Diarmud Duibhne's eyes that was sputtering, and instead of by Saber's hand, it was by his own that he'd been struck.

Saber staggered back as if she _had_ been the one to strike him, appalled, staring as Lancer stood there, looking quite as perplexed to find he had flipped the bright red Gáe Dearg around and run himself through the chest with it, even as his own blood pooled at his feet in flowers that were an even darker shade of red.

Two silent crimson tears spilled, one down either side of Diarmud's face, as he realized the unforgivable horror of it, before he coughed up a spray of blood…the kind of cough that was scraped, harsh, gurgling, deep from the back of the throat…from the lungs….

Then a voice spoke up from the shadows—spoke as if the shadows themselves were speaking—a quiet, emotionless, unyielding voice.

"You, Kayneth El-Melloi, will use your remaining Command Seal to compel your Servant to commit suicide."

And there appeared Kiritsugu, with a frightened and crippled, wheelchair-bound man beside him cradling a wounded and unconscious woman in his arms. It was all Saber needed to put together that the man in the wheelchair was Lancer's Master, and that Kiritsugu there…he had somehow forced Lancer's Master to use a Command Seal that would force Lancer to take his own life, leaving Saber with a sickening sensation, one that made her feel as hollow as a used puppet.

The beast of bloodlust shifted inside of her, turning into one of true wrath. It prowled restlessly in her heart, striking her through with a desperate desire—just for a moment—to turn her sword on that bastard who dared called himself her Master.

But it was Lancer who cried out in rage and anguish, even as he was dying.

"You want it so badly," he gnashed, sounding nothing like the Lancer Saber had briefly come to know, but more like a demon of vengeance. "You all want the Grail so _desperately_ …you…would bring such shame upon me and yourselves in order to do it?! I will never forgive you…I will never forgive _any_ of you!"

He whipped his head around, and Saber saw the terrifying look of anger on that face, as tears of blood flowed from Lancer's eyes—eyes that now seemed to burn demonically red from the depths of damnation itself, as more blood he had coughed up ran down his chin.

"All I wanted was a chance to uphold my honor as a knight…and you've stolen that! You've _stolen_ that from me!"

Few things had ever frightened Saber before, but this was one of them, especially in the way Lancer so clearly accused her in having a hand in this.

Overwhelmed with guilt such as she had not felt since Lancelot's departure from Camelot and Mordred's death, Saber lowered her eyes to the ground, unable to speak, to say a word. Her shame was beyond words.

"May the Grail be tainted!" Lancer threatened, his words boring into her, even as she didn't look at him directly. "May the wish it grants bring nothing but despair and destruction…and then, when you've fallen into the searing pits of hell, you will be haunted by the rage of Diarmud…!"

The cry of his name echoed on the air, as at long last he dissolved into nothingness with one last painful gasp, spear and all, leaving nothing but his spilt blood behind.

The solemn, terrible, ringing silence that followed was then broken by the voice of Lancer's Master, quavering and weak as it was.

"So now the Geass binds you?" he asked, seeming to address Kiritsugu.

Saber ventured to glance up at Irisviel, and saw that she was staring at her husband, at the man she loved, with open, trembling, and vulnerable horror, which didn't help the fact that she looked even paler than she had earlier.

"Yes," Kiritsugu was saying to Lancer's Master, taking out a cigarette and shaking it out of its pack. "I can do no harm to either you, or Sola." Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag on it, blowing out a breath of smoke as all went quiet again.

And then—

The night snapped in two, and then again, and again, in quick succession, as Kayneth gave a cry, coughing up blood the way Lancer had as he seemed struck repeatedly from behind.

Though Saber couldn't confirm it, she knew it had to be Maiya, firing off shots from some high, hidden place. She thought briefly of all that practice that young woman had been doing in the garden of Einzbern Castle, and felt queasy again, along with her anger burning hotly anew inside her.

Eventually Lancer's Master had been shot through so much that he fell forward out of his wheelchair, and both he and the woman in his arms tumbled to the ground. From the stillness of her, from the emptiness of her eyes and the way blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth, it appeared that she had died pretty much instantly.

The man however was not so lucky.

Bloodied and riddled with bullets, his legs useless, he dragged himself forward by his arms toward Kiritsugu, begging him to kill him.

But Kiritsugu stood there, not even bothering to look at him, quite impassive as he went on smoking his cigarette.

"Sorry…but my contract with you forbids me to."

There was an almost smug, smirking edge to Kiritsugu's voice as he said that, and the temperature in Saber's blood rose to boiling. She ground her teeth and gripped Excalibur's hilt, before she stepped forward with a satisfying rush of defiance and with one high swing she brought the blade down and decapitated the poor creature that dying man had been reduced to, showing him the mercy that Kiritsugu refused to.

But even then, Kiritsugu Emiya didn't give her even the merest of glances.

As silence filled the void again, Saber turned away from her Master, beyond ashamed, and went to stand at the opposite end of the Mercedes, with Irisivel standing between them. Well, leaning back against the car with her arms folded, but still, at least she was capable of keeping on her feet.

That anger pulsed and thundered in Saber's heart, her vision red with it.

No.

This was _more_ than anger.

Saber was _pissed_.

However, before she could say anything, Kiritsugu actually addressed his wife. In a tone that was curiously softened at the edge.

"Ah…I just realized…Iri…this is the first time you've ever seen how I kill."

He almost sounded sorry.

Almost.

 _Damn him._

Her ire boiling over, the words spilled out before Saber gave them any forethought.

"Finally I see the lowly beast that you truly are, Kiritsugu…" she growled, her hand shaking as she gripped the hilt of Excalibur. "At first…I trusted in Irisviel's words…that despite everything you at least had a noble goal of bringing the world salvation…that even if our paths differed…we could still tolerate each other's existence on some level because of what we both wanted from the Grail…. But now…now the thought of yielding such a precious thing to the likes of you…the thought of it sickens me…."

"Please, Kiritsugu," Irisviel pled softly. "You owe Saber an explanation for your actions."

But Kiritsugu's answer was utterly unapologetic. Dismissive, even.

"There's no point in explaining myself to a killer who uses things like honor and glory to justify her killing. A knight cannot save the world. But let her go on being wrapped up in her delusions. I'll have no part of it."

"They are _not_ delusions!" Saber snapped, fists clenched, whipping around as the air turned hot with her anger. "How dare you insult the noble notion of chivalry to my face? You monster! The taking of a life, even in battle, _must_ have ideals! Otherwise the very fires of Hell would consume this world!"

Her voice strained, her teeth ground, the King of Knights realized at this very moment that now she could scarcely believe that she had ever so much as considered that the heart Kiritsugu Emiya held in his chest was anything like a kindred of those that beat in the chests of other, true Heroic Spirits. With every action he took in this war, he openly spat in their faces with cold contempt.

And here, he wouldn't even look her in the face. He just tipped his head back as he exhaled another stream of smoke, giving a mirthless laugh that was more like an inhuman rasp. A rasp that shook Saber to her core, rattled her cage like nothing had ever been able to before.

"Do you hear that Iri?" And then he did turn to her, though he still spoke to his wife instead of to her, even as he pointed at her, almost accusingly, his lit cigarette between his forefingers, his eyes that burned and yet were still so fiercely cold. "Our 'Heroic Spirit' over there seems to think a battlefield is better than Hell. What a joke! A battlefield _is_ Hell. There's no hope to be had on one. It's nothing but unspeakable despair…."

His eyes drifted briefly to the ground as his words tailed away, but Saber, momentarily stunned, didn't miss the genuine feeling in her Master's voice. Whatever he was, those words had contained the purest form of anger and disgust she had ever heard in a person. Whatever he was, there could be no doubt at least in her mind that the cruelty of the world truly filled Kiritsugu Emiya with the kind of hungry rage only found in those who starved for justice.

And it was clear in what Irisiviel said next that whatever she'd said about not _really_ knowing something like this side of her husband, she could respond to it as if she did…because it was true, after all, that she and Kiritsugu were bound by more than just love…it was something even deeper and more sacred than that.

"Kiritsugu," she asked in a small voice, "do you force Saber to endure such humiliation…because of your hatred for the Heroic Spirits?"

"Not at all. Personal feelings don't enter into it."

And Kiritsugu actually gave his wife a contrite, albeit brief, glance before he addressed Saber once again, giving one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and crushing it underfoot.

"No matter how many wars come to an end, another begins, while others drag on and on and on. And when all is said and done at a battle's conclusion, it's nothing more than a soulless crime we call 'victory', paid for by the pain of the defeated. But humanity, you see…has never realized this…because in every era a dazzling hero has arisen to blind the people with their beautiful legends."

Though he didn't say it outright, it was clear to Saber in the way he spoke, that he had _been_ one of those people who'd been "blinded", as he put it. Perhaps it was in the way he'd referred to heroes' legends as being…beautiful. Truth be told, he handled that word, "beautiful" with the reverent gentility befitting the word.

"So you see…Saber…" he went on, his voice hardening again, "…this honorable warfare you maintain, is nothing more than a beautiful legend. No…a lie is a more fitting term…and the only truth here is that in order to break this endless cycle, I must use the cycle itself. I accept the world for what it really is, and will be as cruel and violent as I must in order to save it from itself. I care nothing for things like honor and glory. Such fantasies are of no use to me in what I must do."

Despite everything, the conviction in his words was nothing short of admirable, a stubbornness that mirrored her own, if Saber was being honest with herself. It was in this way that she had to concede to herself, for a moment anyway, that he had a point.

The world _was_ cruel.

And full of people who were cruel.

And for all of his ruthless frigidity, deep down Kiritsugu was a man who fought fire with fire, because in a way, there was still a fire inside him, that relentless, tireless drive. He _wanted_ the world to be better than this. _He_ wanted to be better than this.

That was where this heartless killer before her and the man who had laughed while playing with his daughter in the snowy forest…the man to whom Irisviel had given her heart, and who had, whatever anyone else might think, had given his heart to her in return (though he had probably told her at first he had no heart to give her)…that was the converging point, where these two seemingly separate entities became one, and managed to reside within one person.

Before she knew it, she felt herself soften toward him, swallowing a hard lump that had risen up in her throat.

Because something else had just occurred to her then.

Something that compelled her to reach out to him with her own heart.

"Kiritsugu…" she started, only for Kiritsugu to abruptly turn from her again, bristling, no doubt, at the kindness in her tone.

Even so, she pressed on.

"Kiritsugu, don't you see? If you do evil to stop evil, you will only perpetuate the cycle you claim you long to break. But at least…I see in you now…a fragment of something left behind from the man you truly are. Except…that you were betrayed…in the end. Though I can't know what that was, I see the sparks of a longing for justice that burned bright inside of you long ago. A desire you've held in your heart for a very long time. Am I right? Perhaps even since you were no more than a young boy, you felt an innate wish for justice in the world, desiring it more than life itself. Simply a kind person who had no wish to see others suffer."

That dream she'd had of Kiritsugu as a boy, caught in that awful fire full of Dead Apostles flashed for a moment in her mind's eye. The way he had cried, his pleading eyes saying, _No, please…don't let me die this way…!_

And then she said:

"I'm right, aren't I?"

But that seemed to touch a nerve, for the moment she asked this, Kiritsugu turned on her again, cold, dark eyes burning, nostrils flaring like some savage animal that had a mind to charge her and crush her beneath him, to tear her apart even. Saber didn't flinch though. She had seen that look before.

Lancelot had looked at her that way, when she'd found him and Guinevere together, right before he'd stormed off and she never saw him again.

If she were being honest with herself, she deserved, in some small way, to be looked at like that.

Even so, she felt no fear, did not flinch. For that one breath, the two of them stared right at each other, angry sparks spitting invisibly between them…before fizzling out.

And then all that rage in his eyes burned away, diminished even, and his gaze fell again. The smallest amount of sadness crept in, giving Saber just the merest flicker of a despair that appeared to weigh upon his shoulders constantly…a despair that thus far he'd done well to keep hidden.

A despair he kept out of sight, and being the beast that he was, the sort of beast who would snap his jaws at anyone who tried to show him pity for seeing it.

Well, save perhaps for Irisviel, who regarded him as pitiably as anything. It was heartbreaking to watch, actually.

"It doesn't matter," he told them both quietly. "I will win the Holy Grail and save the world. I will do so with whatever method gives me the greatest chance of success. I will make certain…that the blood I shed in Fuyuki will be the last that humanity ever sheds…so…if I must stain my hands with every evil to do so…I don't care. If it will save the world…then I take on that burden gladly."

Of that, Saber had no doubt at all.

So she had nothing at all that she could say to that.

Maiya had driven up quietly behind them in a pickup truck, and now that she'd arrived, Kiritsugu took it as his cue to take his leave of them, and move on to whatever new task in this war he had set for himself. Indeed, it was as Irisviel said, he wanted to push through this War as quickly and efficiently as possible.

He gave Irisviel one last wan glance of farewell before he went around and yanked open the front passenger door of the truck and climbed inside of it. Saber's mind went on swirling with thoughts of all that had just passed between them as she and Irisviel watched the vehicle turn and drive off back the way it had come, with Maiya at the wheel and Kiritsugu curiously slouched rather resignedly beside her.

And then Irisviel said, in an alarmingly weak voice: "Kiritsugu…has gone now?"

"Um…." But before Saber could properly answer, her lady charge was pitching forward in an unmistakable dead faint, her body haloed by the breaking light of dawn as she was falling…falling…falling….

"Irisviel!" Saber cried, letting Excalibur slide from her grasp as she dropped to her knees and just managed to catch Kiritsugu's wife in her arms. She turned her over, cradling her against her chest and examining her, her heart pounding at the sheen of sweat on the young woman's brow, the ghost-whiteness of her skin, the feeble shallowness of her breathing.

"Irisviel…hey…come on…don't do this…." Saber's voice broke, giving Irisviel a little shake, as that lump rose up in her throat again, and before she knew it she had tears in her eyes, and her heart was breaking quite as much as Irisviel's heart appeared to have been breaking for her husband. She was back in that dark forest, finding Irisviel run through and bleeding out.

This time though, things seemed even more hopeless than they had then. And this time, Saber didn't bother trying anymore with anything like gruff encouragement. She just held Irisviel in her arms, her face streaked with tears that shined against the sweat and grime that clung to her skin. And she just let herself cry, not just for Irisviel, but for what had happened to Lancer too…he hadn't deserved a death like that, and even if she hadn't had a hand in it, she felt by proxy that she was responsible for how it all played out.

She felt like a fool, and after so many years promising herself she'd never be fooled again.

"Damn it," she growled, teeth ground.

And then, a quavery voice whispered in her ear: "Magic circle…you have to…place me…in the…magic circle…the one we drew…in the storehouse…."

Saber sucked in her breath and drew back, but Irisviel had already passed out again, limp once again in her arms. She sniffled, for a moment acting like the child she used to be who'd cried over things like scraped knees in the courtyard during sword practice, or when she'd lost control of the first horse she'd ever learned to ride and gotten thrown clear out of the paddock, breaking her collarbone…the first bone she'd ever broken in her life, and certainly not the last. Even in those times when she'd held comrades of hers in her arms as they died, she hadn't been able to cry like this.

Still, Irisviel at least, for the moment, was still alive. And she was counting on her.

She wiped away her tears with the back of one hand and then gathered Irisviel up as she rose to her feet, carrying her like the damsel in distress that she was right now.

"It's okay, Irisviel. You just hang in there…I'll take care of everything."

And she reverted into the black suit that served as her street clothes, and carried her lady charge to the Mercedes and tucked her in the back seat, and then drove the both of them back to the abandoned old house in Miyama Town.

* * *

 _The cries of seagulls floated on the morning breeze, more of them gathering about the tiny speedboat, sitting all alone in the middle of the ocean. It had left New York City's harbor miles and miles behind it, and the birds themselves were quite unaware of the violence that was about to burst through the sky above them, as their only concern was catching the early morning fish in the first light of dawn._

 _The young man, meanwhile, was a few years older than he had been during the fire on the island, and in that time he'd gone through a serious growth spurt. He was not only taller but leaner too, his muscles showing toned through the white shirt he wore underneath a black, unbuttoned shirt. Even so, he was still a bit younger than the man he would become. He was in between the boy and the man._

 _Not for long though._

 _He spoke to a woman through a headset, and though he didn't say it so much in words, it was clear by the look in his eyes that he was clinging to every word she spoke, as though each of those words were precious to him, more than he could ever say himself._

 _"Did I really show so little promise as a student?" he asked._

 _There was a crackle on the other end of the mic, and then a woman's voice—and even though she spoke from another space, she appeared as if she were right there, speaking to Kiritsugu face-to-face as she sat piloting a distant aircraft full of Dead Apostle ghouls._

 _"Far from it," the silver-haired woman answered him coolly, "on the contrary: you showed a lot of potential." There was a sliver of pride in her tone, and the corner of her mouth quirked upward, and there was something about her that suggested this was a bit of a rarity._

 _"Too much potential, actually," she added, and sounded a little sad._

 _"What do you mean by that?" young Kiritsugu asked, trying to sound light about it as he set about assembling a rocket launcher on the deck of the boat._

 _"The ability to pull the trigger…regardless of your feelings…is a skill most killers take years to develop. You, on the other hand, had that skill from the very start. It's quite a gift." Then she sighed, looking just a little bit guilty. "But doing what you're talented at isn't always what you_ should _do…and it won't always bring you happiness either." Then she gave a mirthless chuckle. "Ordinarily, teaching a boy like you is the_ father's _job but…well…I sort of…took that away from you."_

 _"So…you think of yourself as my father?" He was trying to make a joke out of it, but something was off._

 _Yet the woman laughed, as if she understood what he was trying to do. "I'm a full-grown woman, you rude little jerk, you could at least call me 'mother'," she shot back at him._

 _In only the way a mother would._

 _The corner of Kiritsugu's mouth twitched into an almost smile. A whisper of that man who would laugh while playing with his daughter in the snow, a whisper of the boy he used to be._

 _"I don't know about mother," he said with a sly sadness._

 _"True," the woman admitted, gazing off into the rosy pink sky, the dawn shining behind her as she flew that plane over the ocean, to where Kiritsugu was waiting for her on the boat. "I never once coddled you the way I suppose a mother would. Still…." A tired resignation settled over her, even as she still smiled. "You know…maybe I'm just getting too old for this game."_

 _Kiritsugu made the final adjustment on the rocket launcher he was setting up and stood, bringing the mic on his headset a little closer to his mouth. He seemed almost earnest now, underneath everything. Charged, yet calm at the exact same time._

 _"Okay. Then…if you quit this job, what would you do with your life instead?"_

 _"If I quit working?" The woman shook her head, and even if he couldn't see it, the love in her eyes, it came through in her voice. "I guess after that, the only thing left for me to do…would be to start acting like a real mother, I guess."_

 _Kiritsugu lost his smile as she said this, and his eyes filled with something. Not with tears, but just the same, they were swimming now with an unbearable sadness._

 _Without breaking his gaze from the sky, from the plane that now approached overhead, he hefted the rocket launcher onto his shoulder._

 _Settling it there and peering through the scope, even as he made the final preparations to shoot, he said, hoarsely, "Natalia…you…are my real family…."_

 _And then he fired._

 _The plane above burst into flame and smoke upon the small missile's impact, but the woman still had that smile on her face even as she was engulfed in fire and death._

 _The blooming flower of smoke that was left behind in the aftermath of the explosion in the sky sprouted bits of smoldering, burning debris that fell and crashed into the sea…but other than that, the craft had been utterly obliterated, along with every living thing inside it._

 _A craft full of Dead Apostles…whose landing at an airport could've spelled destruction for an entire populace…and the woman called Natalia probably would've joined them sooner or later._

 _As if letting himself feel the weight of this, and what he had done to resolve this oncoming crisis, Kiritsugu let the rocket launcher fall and clatter, and he himself dropped to his knees. He was smiling again, but it was a mirthless and painful smile, and his eyes were still swimming, even a little wakeful, like he'd come out of a trance of some sort…yet a trance that he had been fully aware of._

 _"You see that, Shirley?" he murmured. "I killed someone again. Just like I did my dad. I didn't screw up this time like I did with you. I saved…an awful lot of lives…." His voice started to shake, and then it cracked, as he spoke in the voice of someone working hard to convince themselves of a lie. Or, not so much a lie, as something they didn't really want to believe, or accept. "If Natalia had landed that plane…who knows how many people…would've died…?" He hunched over as his head dropped, propping himself up on the palms of his hands. "So I…Shirley…."_

 _In that one name, was a desperate plea._

 _Kiritsugu shook and shook as he curled further into himself, and then something broke and he suddenly reemerged and threw back his head, screaming at the sky._

 _A scream that shattered the soul, because it came from his own shattered soul. A scream that sounded from the depths of deepest despair…a scream that echoed the first scream of anguish ever uttered by the first human being to understand that the world could be so cruel it hurt._

 _The scream that gave birth to the man they would call the Mage Killer._

Saber opened her eyes, not at all surprised at the tears streaming down her face, because in the dream she'd been crying there too. And her sleeping self had reached her in the real world, where she'd been crying in her sleep.

"Good God," she whispered in the gloom of that little stone storehouse where she'd been slumped against the wall. Hastily she thumbed away her tears and sat up straighter. "Good God…what the hell…?" She shook her head and sniffled. She took a couple gulps of air as she looked up at the dark ceiling. "No wonder…."

He had come to learn just how broken the world was, and he had wanted to fix it, even _before_ he knew how _truly_ broken it was. But then the world broke _him_ , and so…he would break, and break, and break, until everything could be rebuilt again…into something happier.

Not just for the sake of people, but also for his own sanity.

Just thinking again of that moment, when he'd taken down that plane after wishing that woman farewell, and then screamed in the agony that it had caused him. Her heart caught in her throat, thinking that if she'd been forced to kill, say, Sir Ector, who had been the closest thing to a father she had ever had, would she have managed to keep herself from breaking the way Kiritsugu hadn't been able to keep himself from breaking? And the only reason he'd had to kill her…was because he'd made a vow to save as many lives as he could. How unfair it was, that in order to that, he had to sacrifice those he held most dear? Who wouldn't want to make a world where things like that didn't have to happen after all of that?

Though Saber was still disturbed and disgusted by the methods her Master used, she felt her loyalty to him renewed, the pact she had made with him still binding them, and felt right in her decision to continue to honor it.

After all, someone had to keep the light of hope burning. And she'd always been pretty good at that. It was one of the few things about her time as a king that she'd truly been proud of.

She glanced over at where Irisviel, Kiritsugu's wife and mother of his child, and Saber's charge, slept soundly upon the healing glow of a pulsing magic circle that was slowly restoring her health. This woman who would stand by that man, even if everyone else in the world hated him.

A man like Kiritsugu was too much of a lowly beast to deserve that kind of unconditional love, and yet…that didn't mean he didn't need it either.

Saber absently chewed on a thumbnail as she thought. Reflected on how seeing that younger Kiritsugu roar at the indifferent heavens reminded her so much of the despair she'd felt at her own death, when she'd slain Mordred, and knelt, mortally wounded herself, on that desolate hill of battle, surrounded by so many other dead.

Then she heaved a sigh, quit chewing on her thumbnail and stood with a groan, brushing the dust off of her smartly cut black suit. As she went over to where Irisviel lay and knelt down next to her, reaching over and brushing back a few strands of silver hair, she managed a smile, if a sad one.

"Don't worry, Irisviel," she promised, the light of the magic circle casting her face in its bright, white-blue light, "whatever's happened, and whatever's going to happen…I shall remain…your and your husband's faithful Servant."

Yet inside, her heart still shuddered from the dream she had had that had glimpsed once more into Kiritsugu's past, and from the last hateful glare Lancer had given her before he'd died, and how much it and the glare Kiritsugu had given her as well both eerily reminded her of the way Lancelot had before he'd stormed off and left both her and Guinevere behind…of the way Mordred had seethed at her before the two of them had engaged in the final duel that would kill them both…

…and add to that how this mysterious illness appeared to have taken over Irisviel's body, slowly weakening her, a heavy foreboding stirred in the pit of Saber's stomach, and gave her the briefest of self-doubting pauses, as Lancer's final curse came back to her.

That bad feeling that things were about to get really ugly, really fast.

Even so, she had to be ready for when that time came. And were anyone there to see it, they would've been shaken at the fierce, leonine glint in her jade eyes.


	10. Stolen Flower

**Chapter Ten**

 **Stolen Flower**

Shortly after dawn, Irisviel stirred at last.

Saber, who found she'd needed scarcely any rest, had kept beside her with her knees folded to her chest, her whole body as tense as a lion on alert. And the moment Irisviel started to wake, she gasped and leaned forward onto her hands hand knees, bending over her, but still giving her space to breathe.

Irisviel's eyes fluttered open, and it was probably the loveliest thing Saber had ever seen in a good while. Then her crimson eyes adjusted, before they floated briefly about the room and alighted on Saber.

She smiled. "Saber."

"Irisviel." Saber let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, returning Irisviel's smile.

Then she held out a hand. Irisviel considered this for a moment, and then she reached up and accepted it, and let Saber help her up into a sitting position.

"How are you feeling?" Saber asked her.

"Hm." Irisviel's smile widened a little. She even had some color back in her cheeks. "Much better, thank you."

"That's good to hear," said Saber. Hope took flight in her heart, hope that maybe Irisviel would be all right, that she would overcome whatever was ailing her. In which case, all Saber had to do was protect her until the bitter end.

And the end _would_ be bitter. She had a feeling about things like this. Wars always ended that way, even for the triumphant. She supposed it was in that way of thinking that she and Kiritsugu's views on such things actually sort of intersected.

There was a knock on the door, the secret knock Saber recognized as Maiya's. Irisviel recognized it too, as she called out, "Come in!"

Maiya slid inside. "I have something." She held up a folded sheaf of parchment paper.

"Let me see," said Irisviel, and it seemed she could still manage unfolding something as flimsy as paper. Which meant Saber still harbored concerns for her health. She wouldn't really start to feel better until she saw that Irisviel could handle things like buttons and keys and driving again.

"Oh, it's from Tokiomi Tohsaka," said Irisviel. "He even wrote this in German." The corner of her mouth quirked up in a rather smug amusement. "He overdid it a little with the formalities. But then, that seems to be his way."

"What does he want?" Saber asked, just a little tersely.

Irisviel raised her eyebrows at this, rather surprised, but made no comment as she proceeded to summarize Tohsaka's missive.

"He wants to meet us at the Fuyuki Church," she said. "The church is neutral, of course, so he can't do anything like attack us there."

"You think that's wise though, to meet him?"

Irisviel looked up at Saber, and then glanced at Maiya. The two women shared an oddly knowing look, as between people who had previously bent their heads together in making plans. It was only odd because Saber had rarely seen the two women be anything like close, except perhaps when they had both decided to try and take on Kirei Kotomine in the Einzbern Forest in order to protect Kiritsugu.

Maiya nodded, and then Irisviel did the same, as if they had come to an agreement on something.

Then Irisviel turned to Saber again. "It's fine. We'll meet with him. There's a matter I'd like to address with him, in any case." She folded the note up carefully, handing it back to Maiya.

"Shall I write out a response then, madam?" Maiya asked.

"If you would please, Maiya," said Irisviel, folding her hands quietly in her lap. They shook just ever so slightly.

Okay, so writing was still out for her.

Saber bit her lip. "Um…can I ask…what matter would you need to discuss with Tokiomi Tohsaka that you would agree to meet with him in person?"

When Irisviel looked at her then, Saber was gifted with the surprise of a spark of a flame in her crimson eyes, a flame whose strength contrasted with the remaining weakness of her body.

"Kirei Kotomine. It's clear he's been assisting Tohsaka this whole time, the both of them working together to ensure a Tohsaka victory." She narrowed her silver eyebrows, her flare of indignation reminding Saber a bit of a warrior queen. Of Guinevere, when she'd been fiercer and fierier. "Believe me when I say, Saber, that Kirei Kotomine is the most dangerous man that Kiritsugu will have to face. And he _will_ have to face him. Soon."

"Kirei…Kotomine…." Saber would remember the name. She gave a nod. "Okay. You do what you think is best…Irisviel."

* * *

Saber kept her guard up at the Fuyuki Church, naturally. Just because this was neutral territory didn't mean there wouldn't be any surprises.

Irisviel played her part as diplomat admirably. As Saber watched her, there was no doubt in her mind now that there was no error in likening her to a queen.

Tohsaka's proposal seemed reasonable of course. He wasn't suggesting an alliance, but he was suggesting a sort of "cease-fire" between his faction and that of the Einzbern clan, at least until they were the only two competing teams left. Irisviel was willing to agree, but there was one sticking point that had to be addressed, one condition that had to be met, otherwise the deal was off.

Kirei Kotomine was to be dismissed from the proximity of the War entirely. In fact, until the War was over, he was to leave the country and stay out, effective immediately. Which gave Saber an even better idea of how much of a threat to her husband Irsiviel perceived this man to be.

Standing in the back of the church sanctuary with Maiya, Saber took another look at the man keeping silent vigil all the way on the other side, near the altar. Kirei Kotomine wore the cut of priestly dress, but he stood with the stance of a soldier, his hands behind his back and his eyes closed in patience. He reminded Saber of a domestic cat, not the fat and lazy kind, nor the silent prowler that Maiya actually seemed to be like. No, he was more like the average looking cat, of average weight and size, who seemed harmless enough, crouched in a corner, eyes closed. But not sleeping either.

Instead listening, waiting.

And any moment those eyes would open, and that cat would leap up and pounce, revealing its claws, its sharp teeth flashing in a Cheshire grin.

Yes, what a thing to think of, but Saber could see this man getting along quite well with someone like the Cheshire cat from _Alice in Wonderland_ , a book she'd read with some fascination on the plane ride to Fuyuki. She wasn't sure at the time why she'd chosen it, perhaps because it was such an innocent fairy tail kind of story, but seeing Kirei Kotomine, she felt she had an idea of what to expect now.

And then, his eyes did open, and they met Saber's jade green ones. Saber easily returned his gaze with well-practiced impassivity. And, as if echoing her thoughts, the man did indeed smirk a little, just as Tohsaka was finally relenting and agreeing to Irisviel's terms.

Then he closed his eyes again. But the smirk was still there. And Saber felt like she was the only one who saw this.

* * *

Given that this was Kirei's domain as a priest of the Fuyuki church, he and Tohsaka held another council just between the two of them while Saber, Irisviel, and Maiya made their exit.

Outside, Irisviel reached out and put a hand on Saber's arm.

Saber looked up, and was glad to see Irisviel smile at her. A strong smile too. Saber had to cling to that smile.

"Wait just a moment, Saber," she said cheerily. "Kiritsugu's dropped something off for you."

"Eh?" Saber frowned, bemused. What would Kiritsugu have to give to _her_?

Irsiviel giggled, removing what looked like a tiny microphone from the lapel of her white coat and handing it to Maiya, who appeared to have just gotten off the phone with the man himself. The whole time they'd had this meeting, Kiritsugu of course had been listening in through that mic, a specter hovering all around them. That was how he did things.

"Take a look."

Saber followed the direction in which Irisviel nodded, toward the Mercedes, and there was in fact a second vehicle parked beside it, though significantly smaller.

It was a motorcycle.

And a nice one, by the looks of it.

Just as with the car, Saber quickly grasped what she was supposed to do in order to drive it, as she went over and laid a rather reverent hand on the leather seating, the handles, the sleek, chrome-shelled body.

The look of it in the moonlight was what had struck her, the way it gleamed. She'd had the same feeling when she'd gotten her first horse. A white mare she'd name Eira, for "snow". Being female, Eira had never been meant to be the horse that Arturia would ever ride into a battle on, just a horse she could learn to ride to get the basics. But she had loved that horse dearly, as it had been given to her special by Sir Ector. The way he had presented it to her, it had been more than just something he had given her out of necessity, though of course that had been part of it. Sir Ector had wanted to make a _present_ out of it.

After Eira of course, she'd moved on to riding male horses, coursers trained to charge into battle. And then, as king, her mount had been a destrier, less common than a courser but the greater of the two as a type of war horse. A golden stallion she had named Llew—lion.

Saber shivered when she ran her gloved fingers back over the leather seat, her fingertips electrified and infusing her brain with the knowledge of how to ride thanks to the power of the Grail.

She found herself unable to contain her excitement to try it out on the road.

She beamed over at Irisviel, who had stood watching her with her hands behind her back while Maiya was unlocking the Mercedes.

"So, Saber, do you like Kiritsugu's present?" Irisviel asked.

Saber snorted a laugh, though Irisviel mistook its meaning for delight. In truth, she was dismissing the idea that Kiritsugu would ever do anything like give her a _present_ , but nonetheless, she felt the same kind of joy that came with receiving one. So she wasn't about to ruin Irisviel's happy, optimistically, and seemingly energetic mood with such cynical reflections.

Instead she regarded the motorcycle again and then threw a leg over its seat and sat astride it, putting her feet on the pedals and gripping the handles, waggling her fingers as she relished the feel of them.

"I like this a lot," she said, and that was the truth, anyway. "This is more like a horse than a car is. I mean…I suppose that's obvious," she added, perhaps a little lamely.

Irisviel giggled again, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

"I do. In fact, I think I'll take it out ahead and take the lead, keep an eye out for anyone who might attack while you're out in the open like this on the way back to base."

"Actually, Kiritsugu was hoping you might take some time to patrol the surrounding areas and take any preemptive attack measures where necessary."

Saber paused in running her hands rather tenderly over the chromy body of the motorcycle again (as if it really were a horse) and glanced at Irisviel. "Will you be all right in the car with just Maiya?"

"Of course," Irisviel assured her sweetly. "Maiya is more than capable of protecting me."

Saber held her lady's gaze for a moment. She really was such a lovely woman. Whatever Kiritsugu was, he was lucky to have had her for his wife, and she still had no doubt in her mind that whatever kind of fighter he was, dishonorable, godless, bestial, sneaky and conniving, he had a genuine tender place in his otherwise cold heart for this kind and beautiful soul, as he clearly did for the child they had had together.

Yes, that moment he had shared with his daughter in the snow, that hadn't been anything fake. Even after everything Saber had come to realize about the man, that moment still held true for her, that that was what he was really like, deep in his heart. It was why she had tried to reach out to him as she had, even if he had so cruelly shot her down. In fact, she'd almost felt closer to him after all of that, though an outsider wouldn't have thought so in the slightest.

Very carefully, Saber reached out and touched Irisviel's cheek with her gloved hand, trying to sense any weakness in her lady's body, any at all. She needed to know she would be all right without her. The last time she had left her side, she had ended up run through and would have bled out if it hadn't been for whatever power had closed and healed her wounds.

Next time though, such luck might not be on their side, so Saber had no intention of letting something like that happen again. Not while she still had the power that she did.

Then, as if sensing something of her thoughts, Irsviel's smile turned gentler, almost motherly. "It's fine, Saber. _I'll_ be fine. Please, don't worry. You focus on what you need to do. Kiritsugu and I still need you. We have to win. We must. We can't do it without you."

"Yes," Saber agreed, with every fiber of her being. And with that, she finally relinquished her touch and turned away, kicking the engine of the motorcycle to life.

As she took it out past the barrier surrounding the Fuyuki church, she felt the same thrill that she had the first time she had ridden out to battle on a horse. So distracted was she by such a rare feeling of joy that for a moment she forgot about Irisviel, and by the time she considered looking back one last time, she was already too far down the road to be able to see her.

So she didn't.

In some ways she would come to regret this, but in other ways, she would realize that even if she had, what would have been the point, when it wouldn't have changed anything?

For the present, she enjoyed the feeling of freedom that riding the motorcycle gave her while she followed Kiritsugu's indirect order to go out on patrol. It allowed her thoughts to drift back to those times she would take Eira or Llew out on her own just to give herself a small amount of respite from the life she normally lived. At times Lancelot or Bedevere might've joined her as well if she desired the company, and she'd lost count of how many times she'd used this as a means to shake off frustration after getting locked in a snarled situation between her and Guinevere. Either that or escape to the practice court and work that frustration off with swordplay.

She luxuriated in the rush of air through which she knifed the vehicle, the stretch of curving open road in front of her, the feeling that she was the only person in the world, while at the same time keeping her senses open to any disturbances that warranted a preemptive strike. Of course, she had no intention of deviating from her course of facing someone honorably in combat rather than employing the kinds of underhanded sneak attacks that Kiritsugu would. But she agreed with the objective to intervene should she sense an immediate threat to Irisviel.

She went over in her head who was left.

Archer and his Master.

Rider and his Master.

And Berserker and his Master.

 _Berserker._

She couldn't believe she'd nearly forgotten him. Perhaps because he'd rarely made an appearance in this war, moreover had not once crossed her path since the battle against Caster, which felt like an age ago. Even so, she had been struck with how Berserker appeared to know who she was, and at first it had bothered her, but then other priorities had gotten in the way and she'd set that aside until now.

As then however, she still had no idea who this Berserker could really be to appear to know who she was. Or at least be familiar enough with her sword. Who had she known in her previous life who would manifest in the Berserker Class in the Holy Grail War like this?

Well…perhaps a vengeful Mordred. That was a possibility.

She hoped it wasn't though. She wasn't too keen on the idea of having to relive the fight that had ultimately claimed both their lives.

And then there was Kirei Kotomine, the ultimate threat to Kiritsugu. Or so said Irisviel. Personally, she wasn't entirely trusting of his acquiescence to Irisviel's demands to have him expelled from Japan for the rest of the War. That look he'd given her, she'd seen that look before. Recognizing that look had been what had saved her in the number of assassination attempts she'd had to fend off in her previous life.

And then her mind drifted back to a kinder memory, her thoughts as meandering as the long winding, twisting road before her.

 _"My lord," Guinevere greeted in the courtyard of Camelot with her retinue in tow, inclining her head as Arturia dismounted from Llew, quite exhausted from the battle she and her knights had just fought, but still able to put on a dignified air of strength._

 _"My lady," Arturia—known to her people as King Arthur—replied, extending her hand._

 _Guinevere considered her before accepting it with her own. Arturia felt a warmth in her chest at that delicate hand in hers, and she reverently bent as she touched her lips to the back of it before lifting her eyes to her wife…her wife who believed her to be a man._

 _When their gazes met today though, there was something different in Guinevere's shining irises. They lit up with a gleam Arturia had never seen before, and it made her decidedly happy to see it there. She smiled, and Guinevere blushed in kind and averted her gaze in a display of feminine meekness._

 _Merlin, who had accompanied them on the battlefield that day as a magic support that had partially won them their victory, was off to the side, feeding hay one of the goats the goatherd was tugging behind him as he made his way through the courtyard. He caught what passed between Arturia and Guinevere and raised an eyebrow at it, but did nothing more and simply turned back to patting the goat._

 _Arturia's gaze meanwhile lingered after her queen as she returned inside the castle with her retinue, and Lancelot, given the nature of his and the king's friendship, permissibly clapped his king on the shoulder, giving her that knowing smirk that men share between each other when one of them knows that the other's got romance on his mind. It was another occasion where Arturia actually felt grateful to have had a life that had allowed her this glimpse into the world of men. Among women friends, they'd have all giggled, hiding their mouths behind their voluminous sleeves. Arturia much preferred this more down-to-earth attitude of ribbing from Lancelot, and another knowing grin that came from Bedevere while the rest of the knights handed their horses off to their squires to be led back to the royal stables._

 _At the same time though, Arturia's appreciation for long hot baths came from a very feminine sensitivity, even if_ anyone _, male or female, would appreciate something like soaking in clean hot water, washing away the grime and blood of battle and letting it act as a heat compress to the aches and pains in the muscles and joints._

 _She took the opportunity that day to take an extra long soak._

 _After she got out of the tub she rebound her breasts to get them back to being as flat as possible before wrapping herself up and escaping to her private chambers where she donned a set of billowing long robes that further served to conceal her bosom._

 _When she looked up again though, she was greeted with a surprise appearance from Merlin. Nonplussed, she asked the old mage to what she owed the pleasure of his company, and it was then that he cast the glamor upon her._

 _She would never come to understand from him why it was he had chosen that moment to do what he did, except that she could only guess that he had somehow intuited what was on her mind from her and Guinevere's exchange in the courtyard earlier._

 _But then…Morgan LeFay._

 _Arturia's mind clouded completely, and she forgot all about Guinevere and instead followed his sister, with her wiles and witchery, out of the castle and into the forest._

 _Really, she didn't feel all_ that _different, aside from the obvious. And Morgan looked a treat begging to be devoured. Arturia's world was a haze of red, but the soft kind born of passion, not anger. She even recalled the little love-nips that she trailed along her sister's skin, and she calling him, "Dear brother…yes…" before sighing with pleasure._

 _The leonine grace of Arturia's body was fully masculinized, and Morgan was none the wiser that this wasn't the body her king and so-called brother normally had concealed beneath clothing. Until her dying day she would believe that the body she saw that night was the truth._

 _When Arturia awoke, alone, and returned to her true gender, an emptiness filled her as her first thought was of lonely Guinevere back up in the castle. And she, down here, frolicking like a beast. Consulting with Merlin, he told her that he'd tried to stop Morgan's wicked intervention, that he had intended for Arturia and Guinevere to couple, but alas. Arturia bore it with her usual practiced stoicism._

 _And then there came a morning when Arturia woke early, and sought Guinevere, still sleeping. And found that her queen even had a smile on her face, not yet realizing that it was Lancelot who had given her that smile. And despite everything, seeing that smile, Arturia managed one herself, if a bittersweet one. She was just glad to see her queen happy, and that perhaps it would mean nothing that she and Morgan come together incestuously in the forest sometime before that._

 _In that moment, for the first time, she really considered the concept of chivalry and what it stood for in a world that was otherwise so dark beyond the edges of fragile civilization._

 _Beyond the walls of Camelot, invaders from the north, from the sea, braggards who rape and pillage. Arturia had seen the scars and pain such things left in the eyes of helpless people, of men, of women and children, of young and old. Moreover, as the king to uphold that code of chivalry, she could be the light in the darkness that Merlin said she would be._

 _She could protect people._

 _Save them._

 _Even people who were close to her, or people she just cared about, even if they didn't exactly feel the same._

 _Watching her wife sleep like this, she knew with that same warmth she'd felt earlier in her heart that she would protect her, even though they would never share a night of bliss as couples were privileged to do._

 _Unable to help herself, Arturia leaned over the soft curve of her wife's shoulder and laid a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek, before she returned to her own chambers, leaving Guinevere to obliviously awaken a few hours later at dawn._

 _Not long after that, out in the wilds, there was the shriek of a newborn baby, cradled in Morgan LeFay's arms. She crooned to the beloved mechanism of her vengeance upon King Arthur._

 _Her sweet little Mordred._

Saber's heart felt heavy in her chest for remembering these things. It didn't help either that Irisviel really did make her feel that same old warmth in her chest that Guinevere had once made her feel.

Actually, she and Kiritsugu _both_ made her feel that warmth.

She couldn't quite explain it, but just by thinking of the two of them, the way Irisviel spoke of him, and the way he'd looked at her when he'd thought no one was looking….and there it was.

It was a feeling she suspected was more than just simple love. She didn't think there was actually a word for it, not in any language she knew. But she did know that it was good. _Too_ good. Too good for a world that even now was filled with so much darkness.

And she suspected that Kiritsugu knew that. Believing that gave her a better understanding of how he saw the world in his own way.

With a sigh, and as forlorn now as she had been then, Saber looked up at the bright moon filling the sky, and decided it was time to return to the house in Miyama Town.

When she did, she found Maiya just outside the storehouse. Irisviel was presumably inside, resting. Saber hoped that she hadn't fallen ill again and was using the magic circle to once more restore her strength. That would only mean that her lady charge was getting worse, not better, and Saber could hardly bear the thought of that, if she were being honest with herself.

As she killed the motorcycle's engine, dismounted, and propped it up by the kickstand, Maiya snapped the cellphone she'd been talking on shut and turned to her, aware of her arrival.

"Saber," she said. "Everything clear?"

"Everything's clear," Saber informed her. She nodded to the storehouse. "Is Irisviel in there?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across Maiya's face. It was actually a little wistful, which surprised Saber. "Madam was a bit tired, so she's already asleep for the night." She hooked the cellphone to a clip on her belt. "Kiritsugu instructed me to watch over her, while you take point patrolling a certain area in town for the base of operations for Rider and his Master." She handed Saber a map. "The area he's suspects they're holing up in is circled on there."

"All right." Saber took the map and opened it up, noting where Kiritsugu appeared to have circled an area on the sprawling city of Fuyuki with a red felt tip pen. It looked like another neighborhood, similar to Miyama Town but bigger, and probably more modern. When it came down to it, Miyama Town was actually quite secluded. Saber was sure that that was his main reason for choosing this spot.

Though she found herself really wanting to believe, more than ever, that he really had had his wife's apparent desire to see a traditional Japanese dwelling in mind too when he'd chosen it.

As long as his love for his wife was genuine, she couldn't completely hate him or write him off. And so far, she still had reason to believe in that one small hope.

* * *

The next morning, per Kiritsugu's instructions, Saber took the Mercedes out, using the map to find the neighborhood he'd circled on there. And since she had the car to herself, she actually took the opportunity to surf the radio for herself, and managed to settle on a station that played what she was given to understand non-Japanese people called "J-pop" that she found had actually grown on her. She'd sampled some beats of it while she and Irisviel had been on their walk of the city, and if nothing else, it was something she could bop her head to when she hit traffic lights and didn't sense any danger nearby.

Now all she needed was some chewing gum and a set of shades and she could almost feel like a normal modern woman.

Good thing too that she gave herself this respite, because in all honesty, she didn't pick up a trace of anything that felt like Rider's presence. Or any Servant's for that matter. More than likely though, Kiritsugu had given her this task as a means to keep her out of the way while he performed work that was more vital to their goal of reaching the Holy Grail, but even so…she hadn't wanted to consider it. Not at least until she had nothing else to think of. And truth be told, she almost rather she was the one who found Rider and his Master. Rider's Master was only a boy, after all, a baby in this fight, and if he came face to face with Kiritsugu and Rider wasn't able to shield him, he didn't stand a chance, no matter how clever he'd grown as a mage. Kiritsugu would cut him down without hesitation.

Which was what soldiers did, but in the first place, killing Masters wasn't necessary (though Kiritsugu hardly cared about that seeing as he valued the benefits killing Masters brought), and secondly, Saber couldn't help having more sensitivity to the fact that the boy was still in many ways a child in the world.

After a fruitless search of the neighborhood in the car, Saber abandoned the Mercedes alongside a small, nearby bridge of white stone that overlooked a tributary of the Mion River with the idea of continuing her patrol on foot in mind. It was worth a try, anyway.

In her unassuming street clothes, she still felt she stood out a little, perhaps because what she was wearing was a sharp suit in a place where casual wear was more commonplace. She came across a small group of kids chasing after each other, kicking a ball between them. Saber paused from where she observed them across the street and smiled fondly after them, reminded again of the children she'd played with when she'd been really small, even before she'd started being brought up as a boy. Back then, the differences between boys and girls hadn't been nearly as important as they would be when she'd gotten older.

Otherwise though, she was ready to snap her armor on in a flash at a moment's notice, should she come across anything that warranted such an action, and by the time she returned to the bridge, the sun was setting, bathing everything in a citrus orange glow. A soft breeze blew, lifting her hair, and she watched the way the sun's light glittered on the water, appreciating the beauty of it.

Everything felt so calm, but that gave her all the more reason to keep taut. It was when things were at their most calm that the most terrible things could explode out of nowhere.

" _SABER_!"

Saber jerked and staggered back, and then stilled, physically shaken.

Kiritsugu's voice had thundered through her whole body, every vibration of it rippling with such raw fear that it left her breathless for a moment.

She had never heard him sound anything like scared, the way he did now. She didn't think it was possible.

" _SABER_! _I COMMAND YOU—"_

Deep inside, Saber felt a tug, like a hook snagging her from the inside—the supernatural compulsion to obey manifested by the use of a Command Seal.

" _—GO TO THE STOREHOUSE, IMMEDIATELY_!"

And before Saber could blink, or think, she was snapped through space and time and appeared, fully armored, a second later at the storehouse.

Or the wreck of it, anyway.

Like someone had knocked through a wall to get inside it.

 _Shit._

"What's happened?" she asked, only to find seemingly no one there.

Certainly not Irisviel.

Saber's blood ran cold as ice.

And then she spotted Maiya, facedown and motionless on the ground amidst the rubble, her sub-machine gun and her cellphone lying beside her as though she'd been desperately shooting with one and calling for help on the other before she'd fallen, and they'd fallen with her.

"Maiya!"

She leapt over the heap of broken stone from the collapsed wall and dropped to her knees next to the downed assassin's apprentice, gently gathering her up in her arms and turning her over. The gauntlet on her one hand immediately came away with blood, and as Maiya gave a little moan, Saber could see where she'd been run through with what looked like a very large blade. She'd also suffered a blow to the head, and threads of blood trickled from her brow and from the corner of her mouth. When she coughed awake, she coughed up blood too.

Saber ground her teeth. It hurt. It _hurt_ seeing Maiya like this. No matter how many times she'd cradled wounded comrades in her arms, or held their hands, it always _hurt_ when she knew… _knew_ …there was no way in heaven or on earth that they would make it.

"Sa…ber…" Maiya croaked.

"Try not to speak," Saber told her, her tightening throat and her constricting chest and her scattering mind making it hard to say much of anything else.

Maiya ignored her. "You have to hurry," she said with some very uncharacteristic urgency. "Rider…he came and…took Madam away…."

"What? Rider did?" Saber blinked, a little taken aback that Rider would stoop to such tactics like taking someone like Irisviel hostage.

"Please," Maiya implored her. Actually _implored_ her. "You have to…get her back…I couldn't…." And those dark, fading eyes, before so stony and impassive, they were breaking, shining like shards of glass.

This woman who had once spoken of being willing to do absolutely anything for Kiritsugu without question, disregarding even her own life as though it was of small worth to her…in her dying moments…was suddenly filled with such raw regret.

Even if they hadn't done much like fight together, in those small twinklings they had spoken, even that one morning the two of them had just practiced shooting together…and the mere fact that they were on the same team, in the end, she was her comrade. It was as simple as that.

Saber fought back tears with a practiced effort.

 _I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't here…._

Carefully she laid Maiya back on the ground, but before she left, she briefly pressed both the dying woman's hands in her own, and Maiya met her jade green eyes with just a glimmer of hope.

"It'll be fine, Maiya," Saber told her, her voice shaking just a little. "Don't you worry about a thing, just rest."

And Maiya gave that ghost of a smile again, her eyes softening. "Yes. I'll be fine…after all…Kiritsugu will come soon, so…you don't have to worry either…." Something flickered in her expression at her mention of Kiritsugu, a kind of light Saber had not as yet seen in her, as if despite the fact that her life was ending, meaningless as it had seemed, the fact that she knew— _knew_ —that she would see the man who had taken her under his dark wing one last time, it gave her something to hold onto.

So Saber clung to that too, and gave Maiya what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I promise…I'll come back with Irisviel as swiftly as I can…so you just hang on until Kiritsugu gets here."

Maiya nodded. "Thank you." Her eyes lost focus and her lashes fluttered. "If she's in trouble…if she's lost…I know he won't be able to think straight…."

Saber didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

Unable to do anything more, and with Irisviel captive and, for the moment, lost to them, their time running short, Saber stood and turned away, not looking back.

She darted back out of the wreckage of the storehouse and managed to hop in one bound all the way onto the roof. Miraculously, she spotted someone who indeed looked like Rider, flying off, carrying Irisviel under one arm. The way Irisviel hung so helplessly limp like a rag doll only served to incense Saber, sparking a white-hot anger that burned through her shock that he would do something like this.

In another flash she rid herself of her armor and switched out for her street clothes again, jumping lithely off of the roof and onto the motorcycle. Fueled by her fury, Saber kicked the machine to life, and tore out of the yard onto the road, her glare fixed on the escaping Rider.

 _Damn you, Rider_. Saber gnashed her teeth, her insides burning with the kind of vengeful rage she hadn't felt in what felt like forever, even when she'd been fighting Caster. _Damn you!_

But Saber would get her back. Get her back and kick Rider's ass while she was at it.

She even gave herself a wicked little smile at the thought.

Things were definitely getting bitter, just like she knew they would. But she'd be damned if Irisviel was going to pay the price for it. Maiya already had, and if Saber were being honest with herself…

…seeing that poor young woman like that…

…seeing broken and bleeding out like that...

…with nothing left but to wait to die…

…something shifted inside her, and caused something else to snap.

She was done with this.

She was done with people dying, and for no good reason.

Her nerves were steeled, wound tight and ready to spring into a recklessness that hovered just on the edge of her mind.

She hadn't exactly been holding back before, but now…

…now…

…they had truly unleashed the lioness.


	11. Anger in Bloom

**Chapter Eleven**

 **Anger in Bloom**

Saber seemed to become the very namesake of her Class as she sliced through the streets of Fuyuki on the silver motorcycle. Rider had gotten further ahead of her, and she'd lost sight of her quarry for a moment, but thankfully they reappeared riding that chariot of his, and she pursued them with even greater haste. She was unheedful of traffic rules, ignoring the light signals, and rounding corners and sling-shotting straight into the oncoming lane to close in faster on her target. All while very fluidly weaving in and out of civilian vehicles, completely avoiding any kind of collision.

It seemed fitting in a way, ignoring the traffic rules Irisviel had found so annoying in order to rescue her.

To the outside observer, she was nothing more than a streak of silver, a trickle of mercury, gone in a blink before a single traffic cop could so much as turn on their lights and give chase.

For her part, Saber felt her burning anger and the drive of the engine had become one and the same, and she felt again that frenzied passion of urging her charger into battle. In her heart, there echoed once again the battle cry she'd have given astride Llew as she'd led her army into the thick of combat.

Up ahead, she saw Rider's chariot veer off towards the mountains, so she followed, spotting the first exit off the main road that would lead her there and taking it. Despite how twisty her path became, she urged the motorcycle all the faster and was quickly closing the gap between them, her green eyes locked fiercely on the chariot, on the man who taken Irisviel away.

Above her, the head of Rider's Master poked up as he peered below. He looked rightly nervous as he observed Saber's progress in gaining on them.

Even so, Saber was also becoming aware that the motorcycle was reaching its limits.

Time to kick things up a notch.

To do that, she was going to need magic.

" _Invisble…Air_!" she cried, enveloping the machine in her power, reaching deep down into the heart of its engines and churning them even faster than they could ever normally go with a normal human driving. But thanks to the magic she used, she was able to speed up even faster without burning the engine out, outdoing the speedometer that only went up to 120.

It whined as it revved up even more, and Saber whistled around the next curve like she were nothing more than a beam of light.

But Rider decided to take defensive measures then and rammed into the side of the mountain, causing a rockslide without damaging the chariot.

Saber steeled herself, wheeling in and out past every rock that fell, large and small, ducking out from underneath and coming out without a scratch, glaring ever more intently at Rider.

And Rider, he had the audacity to look over his shoulder at her and grin, like they were having nothing more than a mere race between friendly combatants.

"RIDER!"

But the King of Conquerors gave a kind of salute, his petrified Master crouched beside him in the chariot, before they disappeared over a declivity.

 _Damn it!_

Saber followed their most likely path, and changed course. Instead of continuing to follow the curve of the road, she switched to the guard rail, and with the speed she was getting, it was child's play to launch herself into the air on the motorcycle. High above she soared, and below was her quarry.

She dived like falcon, drawing Excalibur even as she wasn't yet clad in her armor.

"RIDER, PREPARE YOURSELF!"

Rider had barely just enough time to look over his shoulder and draw his own sword to block her blow. Just so, when their blades collided, a shockwave burst between them, exploding in sparks of lightning, electrified mana jetting outward. It was almost like a battle between gods, not mere kings. Though in some ways, they had both transcended the word "king".

The recoil from the collision blasted them both back from each other. The motorcycle and the chariot both hit the ground, skidding to a halt over the asphalt of the pavement.

Fixing Rider with a glare as hard as iron, Saber killed the motor on the bike, and that was when she had her first good look inside Rider's chariot.

It was empty, save for its two occupants, Rider and his Master.

Irisviel…wasn't there?

 _Shit. What the hell?_

There was trickery afoot here. That was clearer now.

Eager to cut her frustration on _something_ after finding Rider did not have Irisviel after all (even though she saw her under his arm not a short while earlier), Saber decisively kicked out the kickstand, leaned the weight of the bike on it, and dismounted, sword in hand. She might as well settle things with Iskandar while she had the opportunity.

Rider seemed taken aback as he and his Master took a moment to get their bearings and sized her up. She was rather satisfied to see a glimmer of respect in the King of Conqueror's eyes as she stalked toward them, donning her armor in a single sweeping swirl of mana.

 _Now do you finally acknowledge me as a king?_

She felt her eyes burn with a jade fire as she stopped at a good striking distance and raised Excalibur, letting the glamor of the Invisible Air fall away and reveal its golden glow.

Rider gave her a grin of her challenge accepted, and then he seemed to exchange a moment with his Master before shaking the reins of his chariot and spurring the oxen that pulled it into a run.

" _EX…"_

…Saber lifted her blade higher in the air…

" _…CALIBUR_!"

It was over in the work of a moment.

With a single downward stroke, she cleaved through the air so sharply she could feel it split before her. The force of it launched a burst of light from the illumination of the blade, and blasted head on into the charging Rider.

She heard both him and his Master yell as they took on the full blast, and when the light dissipated, Saber blinked and stepped back, finding that Rider had abandoned his chariot to Excalibur's destructive power, finding cover by leaping up into a nearby tree with his Master in tow.

Well, she hadn't killed him. But, she supposed that losing his Gordius Wheel was a big enough dent in his power to at the very least humble him at her feet. She met his gaze as he hung from that tree, his young Master wriggling under his arm like a struggling puppy. The King of Conquerors nodded, and Saber nodded back.

And for one moment, she felt wistful, for she was sure then that this was the last time she would see that lush and jovial man, and suffice to say, she realized she would rather miss his brash optimism. He was certainly a star that would burn and shine bright in the constellations of history.

At the very least though, it appeared as though he finally conceded that she was in fact a king in her own right, whatever her approach to the position might be compared to his. And that was enough.

With that, she shed her armor and returned to her pressed black suit, Excalibur concealed once more. Then she turned on her heel and remounted her motorcycle, kicking it to life and turning back down the road towards Fuyuki City.

She could waste no more time reveling in her victory over Rider.

Irisviel was out there. And come what may, she would find her, and save her.

* * *

Saber rode round nearly every corner and back alley that the city of Fuyuki had to offer, and tirelessly so. At times she would stop altogether and simply sit astride the motorcycle, waiting, listening, watching, and then…she would pick up something and head off in the direction she sensed it.

Only it would always lead to nothing more than a dead end.

Even when the rational part of her mind started to try and suggest to her that the trail had long gone cold, that Irisviel had slipped out of her reach, that she had had one chance to get her back and she'd screwed it up…she couldn't bring herself to give up. She wasn't someone who… _gave_ up….

Nor could she forget…everything Irisviel had done for her…it hit her as she kept searching…everything that had passed between her and the mysterious woman of porcelain beauty, her silver hair bright as sunlit snow…a flower that was fragile in everything except for her spirit…for Saber had felt that strength when she had given her the support and power of her healing magic during their first encounter with Lancer…and again when she'd watched the way that woman had regarded her and Kiritsugu's precious daughter….

 _I have to find her…I have to._

Her eyes stung and watered, and it wasn't entirely from the wind cutting through as she sped on through the sharp chill of the wind. There was a pain in her heart she hadn't felt since the night she'd found out about Lancelot and Guinevere, since she'd fought to the death to save her beloved Briton only for it to fall in her wake.

"Damn it." Saber ground her teeth and kicked up the accelerator on the machine.

She darted this way and that, seeking signs of Archer, of Berserker, of anyone or anything that could lead her to where Irisviel had been taken.

But…nothing.

And then dawn came.

* * *

Saber's footsteps had never felt so heavy as they did now, even more so than when she wore armor. The soles of her black leather shoes pounded the stone steps leading up to the temple on Mt. Enzo. Even in her black suit though, there was a sober regality to her demeanor, as she prepared herself for what she would say to her Master, how she had failed to recover his wife.

Since he had first delivered her the command using a Command Seal, Kiritsugu had otherwise severed all contact. Not that there was much of a contact to sever in the first place, but even so. Somehow, Saber felt it nonetheless.

At the same time though, she also felt a pull, the moment she realized that her search for Irisviel was futile. And that pull drew her to Mt. Enzo. And she knew that that pull would lead her to Kiritsugu.

She found him then, just as she knew she would, sitting in the shade of the steps of the entrance to Ryuudou Temple. He was hunched over with that submachine gun propped on his shoulder, holding on to it like it was the only thing he had left to hold onto. When Saber saw him like that, there was a sadness to it, but also a resignation. Both were equally painful to observe, as she was reminded of the frightened boy—the young Kiritsugu—she had glimpsed in her dreams.

Although it had been a long climb up the steps, she wasn't even out of breath as she approached him.

Hearing her footsteps, Kiritsugu raised his head, and his dark eyes met her green ones. Those dark eyes that were full of ghosts. Ghosts of everyone he had killed. Because unlike Saber, he saw nothing but ignobleness in killing, even for the sake of things like defending one's country or saving a life. So the deaths he had brought upon people actually weighed quite heavily on him. Saber found she sympathized with that, and it even gave her reason to reexamine some of the attitudes she had developed towards death and killing.

Still, she wanted to believe that the honor she upheld was real, and not a falsity or excuse or something to ease her conscience about the people whose lives she took. Not an illusion, as Kiritsugu claimed them to be.

Her Master stared at her another moment, emptily, coldly, and then he lifted his gun off his shoulder and cocked it. But he didn't aim. It was only a warning.

 _Keep away from me._

It was reminiscent of a wounded wolf growling at the approach of another creature.

Saber stopped short.

However, when Kiritsugu did nothing more and simply sat there, as if waiting, she took this as her being given leave to speak.

"I searched every corner of the city for Irisviel," she reported to him, without preamble. "But I was unable to find her." Her throat grew tight, and she swallowed, and lowered her gaze to the ground, to the courtyard in front of the temple bright in the sun.

Still, Kiritsugu said nothing.

"I am deeply sorry," she told him with sincere regret.

A koi in a nearby pond leapt from the water and splashed.

A raven took off, flapping its wings.

"I will go then, and keep an eye out for enemies as before," Saber went on, and started to turn back towards the steps. "If you have need of me, simply summon me with the Command Seals. I will come."

The words were basically empty, she knew, for she knew that Kiritsugu had never really needed her per se. She had only filled a requirement he'd needed to play this game, and had been useful now and again as his puppet.

Yet strangely enough, as she walked away, without him doing so much as answering her words or calling her back, aside from how this felt entirely right, somehow, Saber also found herself…putting her faith in her Master, as Irisviel had asked her to do countless times.

In this way, she still felt bound to him, beyond any kind of Master-Servant pact. They had a common goal, and though they had different ways of thinking, their suffering had been quite similar. They had loved so much, and lost so much too, and just wanted to make things right, and see people happy and safe again.

Back in the cold castle of the Einzberns in Germany, there was a daughter who was waiting for her father to come back, whose mother would probably never come back. Saber then, found herself wishing for a happy ending for that father and daughter as well.

So, she would fight to make at least that a reality. Irisivel would be happy for that.

 _We will win this_ , Saber told herself as she reached the bottom of the steps and grabbed the handlebar of her motorcycle. _We have to. We must. And Kiritsugu can do it. So for that, I will help him do what needs to be done, and remain on his side until the end. Irisviel…what has happened to you…the sacrifice you have made…it will_ not _be in vain._

Meanwhile, mixed in with her sorrow for Irisviel was that anger she had felt the day before when she'd held Maiya in her arms, when she'd chased down Rider thinking he was the one who had abducted that innocent iris. She felt that anger that drove her to action, that she fed on desperately as though starving for it, because otherwise she couldn't push forward.

In that respect too she felt herself bound to Kiritsugu. He operated on that same kind of anger, though his was frozen cold while hers burned hot. Even so, they were both a fury at the nature of injustice, and for that, she almost felt as though she carried Kiritsugu in her sword in some way. His means of protecting the weak were calculative (kill the few to save the many, and by any means necessary), almost machinelike. And though he was a dark reflection of herself, he was, in the end, a reflection nonetheless.

"All right then. Let's go, shall we?" she asked, as if Kiritsugu were right there.

And with that, she threw her leg over the motorcycle and sat astride it, and then drove off down the road back into town.

* * *

 _"You are not afraid, are you, Lancelot?" Arturia asked as she sat astride Llew at the head of her column of troops, with her greatest friend just behind her on his own steed._

 _"Of course I am afraid," Lancelot answered on a nervous laugh. "Who would not be, considering we are about to plunge into a battle and face death? Any man who is not afraid of such a thing is a fool, even those who are able to mask that fear with bravery."_

 _Arturia gave him a sidelong glace, raising an eyebrow._

 _Lancelot blinked. "Surely you have your own fear, your Majesty?"_

 _The king, the secret female king of Briton, considered him a moment longer and then turned back toward the long stretch of plain where they could see their enemy cresting on the other side over the horizon. Then she sighed and looked away._

 _"I am," she admitted. "However, every fiber of my being, however it quivers in that fear, will not turn back an inch. I remember the faces of those we have left behind, of the people who are depending upon us to succeed so that they may continue to live in the peace of their own lives. I desire to protect that. And that desire is stronger than my fear."_

 _"You are simply saying that," Lancelot said doubtfully, his voice low._

 _Arturia chuckled, actually rather amused, and put a hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it. "Perhaps I am, my dear Lancelot. However, it does make me feel better." She gave her friend a smirk over her shoulder, and Lancelot, after a hesitation, returned the gesture amiably._

 _They both nodded, their silent promise to each other that they would have each other's backs, and then Arturia faced the now visible approach of their enemy, and drew Exaclibur from its holy scabbard._

 _"FOR BRITON!" she cried, and she and her army leapt forward as one towards the invading Northmen, diving in headfirst._

 _..._

 _"This is the end for you…King Arthur," Mordred sneered, sword raised._

 _"No." Arturia shook her head. "The time has come for me to rid the world of my mistake, and put you down." She raised her own sword._

 _The two blades clashed while the rest of the battlefield had begun to go quiet, the air filled now with the murmurs and whispers of the dead and dying. King and Rebel exchanged blow for blow, parrying, the Rebel backing the King into a corner, struck her in the side where there was a gap in the armor, spilling blood, ensuring her death on the battlefield._

 _But the King, as always, rallied, even as she knew some would say that she had little left to live for. That she had received a mortal injury and Avalon was lost. That she would pay the price for this with her life._

 _To her, all that mattered was that Mordred be slain, her own life be damned. She still had her country, that which she was sworn to defend along with those who lived within it. Even Lancelot. Even Guinevere. Her personal feelings had nothing to do with this, even as she fought her own child._

 _Mordred let out a snarl, sword raised again, and Arturia seized the opening._

 _And struck._

 _And that was the end._

 _She watched as the Rebel toppled and collapsed dead at her feet, and then she fell to her own knees, panting and struggling to catch her breath as she bled out, holding onto Excalibur planted in the ground, propping herself up with it as she clung to the hilt with both hands._

 _Cold sweat ran down her face. Her skin was stuck with dirt. And dying was all that was left for her now. But she had won._

 _She had done what she had come here to do._

 _That was what mattered most._

 _The only regret she would die with, was that she couldn't do more to protect her beloved Briton, and knew that even with her victory this day, it was doomed to fall._

 _If there was just some way she could make it right. Whatever she had to do, she would take it._

 _It was part of her last memory in the realm of the normal and mundane, before the Grail took her._

* * *

Saber had had this feeling before, right before a very decisive battle, one that would decide whether or not a war ended. One that those who recorded history and remembered it would speak of for ages to come.

She had it again, as evening approached once more.

She had ridden around Fuyuki all day, searching at the very least for any sign of an enemy on the move. When the veil of night descended upon the city, Saber continued her search, tracking like a hound.

And then light flashed from the sky, and she brought her motorcycle to a halt and paused to see what was happening.

There it was again. A burst of bright colors in the sky. Like fireworks.

But they were magic. Little brightly colored spurts of mana.

A challenge.

A final challenge.

Saber kicked the motorcycle back into gear and followed it, her palms turning sweaty as she twisted her hands around the handles of the vehicle. She had no doubt that those lights were visible from all viewpoints in the city, which meant that Kiritsugu undoubtedly was answering the call. Though he was not one to fight directly in battles, given the circumstances, he had to know that the time had come to step forth and face the remaining players in the game face-to-face.

She supposed he could just arrive on the scene in the shadows and pick everyone off in his usual way, but something about him, something she had sensed in him earlier that day when she'd seen him, told her that very strong emotions were churning deep within his heart. And with the loss of his wife, he was itching to spill blood. He was, after all, a beast.

And as Saber drew nearer to the launch point of the lights in the sky, she felt that pull again, like she had with Kiritsugu, only this time it was different. A pull that echoed an ancient power, one that was familiar to Saber, because she had passed through that power once when she was summoned to this time to fight in this war.

The Grail.

Switching gears, Saber followed the direction of this new pull, even as it curiously led her slightly to the left of the lights in the sky. But then it occurred to her that while one person was offering a challenge, it wasn't necessarily going to be in the place where the Grail was due to appear very soon as this war began to draw to a close.

She sensed though, that even there, someone else was waiting.

And as she thought this, she thought again, wistfully, of Lancelot.

* * *

The building she was led to appeared to be some kind of gathering place for the nearby community. On the way, Saber passed a block of residential apartments, most of which had the lights within turned on, but some turned off as the hour was growing late.

Needing to get her bearings at one point, Saber paused near one of these buildings, and when she stopped, she heard the sound of a door sliding open. Some meters away, on a balcony of one of the upper floor apartments, she spotted a small red-haired boy step outside. He peered through the bars of the railing, not yet tall enough even to look over them. Saber felt for one brief moment that he had seen her, but she couldn't be sure.

Still, she'd felt a shiver then, when she thought he had.

But then a female voice called from within the apartment and the red-haired boy disappeared back inside. Not before taking one last look at the stars. Perhaps he had seen the lights, and had wondered what they were all about. The natural curiosity of a child.

Saber was still thinking of the boy as she rode up alongside the big building where she felt the pulse of the Grail begin to beat like a heart as it prepared for its materialization.

Yet there was something else, mixed in with that pulse, intertwined with it. A familiar energy.

She touched her side with one gloved hand, the spot where Lancer's lance has slashed through and Irisviel had healed her. And then she realized that there was some lingering energy there too, some of the mana Irisviel had used. And it echoed this energy she felt merging with the pulse of the coming Grail.

 _Irisviel…._

At first, Saber had assumed that the abduction of Irisviel, orchestrated to look like Rider had done it, had been a move to provoke her, and possibly Kiritsugu as well, for those who were aware that Irisviel was not the true Einzbern Master in this fight. But now, coming across this familiar energy that had to belong to Irisviel, intertwining with that of the Grail, Saber tried to think of what she actually knew about the Grail, apart from its power to grant the winner of the Holy Grail War any wish they desired, and to summon heroic spirits from across all points in time.

Something with that kind of power would need to be born from something rich in mana.

If that was…if that was really _Irisiviel_ she was feeling now, her energy, uniting with that of the Grail, fusing into one...

Irisviel had seemed to start to grow fragile the moment Assassin had been officially killed by Rider. And she had explained to Saber that her condition was not one human medicine—or any medicine it seemed—could take care of. She'd needed…mana. Like her body thrived on it. Hence the magic circle she'd had Saber draw for her, unable to do so herself in her slowly weakening state.

Of course, mages channeled mana through their bodies, but…this went beyond just needing an energy boost. Irisviel's life had basically depended on that circle.

"Irisiviel…" Saber whispered into the night. "Must you…is it you…who is becoming one…with the Grail?"

Did the Grail require a Vessel, in order to be born?

A sacrifice?

Saber ground her teeth.

 _Damn them._

It occurred to her that Kiritsugu had probably known about this too. But then she recalled again that moment in the forest that she'd seen him share with his and Irisviel's daughter, and it made all the more sense.

After all this was over, his daughter was meant to offer him hope for a life beyond the ashes of battle. And whatever Saber thought of him, he had suffered, and he had suffered enough, much as she had.

It was time to end this.

Then the pulse she sensed within the building spiked.

Saber felt the anger for Irisviel's abduction, and the sweet and gentle woman's ultimate fate, fuel her with a rush of adrenaline, and for just a moment, she felt deliciously feral, felt again that bloodlust she had experienced on the battlefield many times before, that moment where instead of being repulsed she found herself satisfied to spill the blood of her enemy.

And with both this new anger, along with the old, stagnant anger she'd felt for how things had turned out with her, and Mordred, and Lancelot, and Guinevere, all of this joined together and burst forth into bloom, making her palms sweat.

Decisively she kicked the motorcycle back into gear and followed the curve of the road to where spotted the entrance to what looked like a parking garage below the community center building.

And there it was again, that feeling before taking the plunge and diving headfirst into a fray. In a way, she almost felt like she was descending into Hell as the darkness of the garage enveloped her.

But the moment she reached the bottom, she sensed a new kind of energy, one that also vibrated with familiarity. She stopped the motorcycle and scanned the area, a construct of dim lighting barely illuminating the cars that were parked here.

And then—

She had barely a second's warning, but she managed to jump off the motorcycle just before a shot fired from inside the garage struck it, blowing the machine apart. She transformed into her armored form in midleap, landing on her feet with Excalibur's blade at the ready.

The attack came at her again, and again she leapt out of the way just in time, escaping a hail of gunfire using the nearest parked car as a shield.

Mind racing, she waited for a pause in the hail of gunfire before leaping out and attacking head-on, raising her sword and giving a fierce cry.

As she suspected from the nature of the aura, it was Berserker she was facing. Berserker dual-wielding a couple of machine guns by the looks of it.

That did little to deter Saber, and as the crazed Servant roared and raised his rifles to fire again, she ducked down and rolled over again, coming at him from a different angle and charging forward before he had a chance to turn the guns on her.

And once again, for a Berserker, he seemed to have some presence of mind intact, raising one of the guns to block Saber's blade. Sparks flew as the two metals struck each other, and at the same time, Berserker lifted the gun in his other hand.

Noticing this, Saber pulled away and ducked again, finding cover under another car and jumping out from underneath on the other side.

Berserker's gunfire meanwhile appeared to strike the gas tanks of one or two other cars and caused them to explode. The parking garage shook as a conflagration sprung forth, ravenously consuming all in its path and quickly spreading to the rest of the garage until the two of them were surrounded by flames.

This caused the sprinklers to come on and water came like rain, though it would do nothing to drench out the flames. At most it would just make Saber's armor heavier.

She brushed this aside as nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

She waited out another hail of gunfire, and as she did, realized she was going to have to find a way to get those guns away from him. Or just wait him out until he ran out of bullets.

Only if he'd made them his Noble Phantasm, it was possible he would never run out.

Which meant she'd have to fall back on the first plan, getting the guns away from him.

But how to do that?

She bit her lip, and suddenly she thought of her fight with Mordred, the way they'd struck blow for blow, the last ones left of either of their armies, and then she'd struck the fatal blow as the sun rose, even as she herself had been mortally wounded.

What had mattered was that Mordred be stopped. Her own life was a secondary concern.

Now what mattered was that Kiritsugu get the Grail. And that they both be able to make their wishes for the world come true.

Coming back to herself, she noticed that the hail of gunfire had ceased again, and she peeked underneath the car. On the other side she spotted Berserker's feet, and then she heard him roar as though in frustration. And then he turned away.

 _Now._

Saber leapt out from behind the car and once again she charged head on, sword poised to strike. She was prepared to give him a taste of Excalibur's full power if need be, like she did with Rider, but she wanted to avoid it if at all possible. Unleashing that kind of a power in a place like this could cause the entire building above to come down on top of them.

Berserker was slow to react, and this time, Saber aimed for his arms, which he apparently wasn't prepared. Even so, he starting firing at her with both weapons immediately, so Saber dodged, this time running around and leading her opponent into shooting around in all directions as he tried to hit her. Still, she was quicker, and once found an opening, she leapt forward before Berserker could get his bearings again, and swung Excalibur. As he roared and turned around, raising both guns, she cleaved through the weapons, one after the other in two swift strokes.

 _Yes, that's it_ , a tiny voice inside her whispered. _You have him now. Take him. Cut him down._

As she brought her blade down on the second stroke, her whole body quivered and her heart pounded for that death strike that would slay her enemy at long last.

She lifted his sword once more, and swung it down.

Only for Berserker to clap his hands together and catch Excalibur's blade before it could cleave him the same way it had cleaved his guns.

Saber froze.

 _What? How does…how does he know the length of my blade…?_

Switching tactics at this unexpected juncture, Saber leapt back, yanking Excalibur out of Berserker's grip.

Berserker stood there, seething, growling, a wolf with its hackles raised.

And then he drew a sword of his own. A sword that until now, Saber hadn't noticed. Nor had Berserker ever once used throughout the course of the war.

A sword that Saber knew only too well, quite as well as she knew her own.

 _Arondight. The Unfading Light of the Lake._

"That's…Arondight…" she breathed, lowering Excalibur slightly as for a moment she went limp with disbelief.

"Arthur…" growled Berserker, speaking for the first time.

And then the veil of mana lifted as the mad servant's helmet disappeared.

He was nearly as she remembered him. His eyes were more sunken and filled with nothing but pure anger and hate. And his teeth were those of a beast rather than a man's, sharpened to knife-fine points. More than likely an effect of his being Summoned into the Berserker Class.

But it was him, just the same.

She would know that face, contorted as it was with dark rage, the fall of that long hair, that voice, much as it graveled with ire.

Saber nearly dropped her sword.

"Sir…Lancelot…."


	12. Ice and Fire

**Chapter Twelve**

 **Ice and Fire**

Saber's mind reeled back to the Round Table, seeing Lancelot's face across from her…it's expression growing increasingly morose day by day…until the day he disappeared and was never seen or heard from again. It saddened her to think of him dying out there, alone and ashamed of himself.

But she…she didn't have the heart to punish him, any more than she did Guinevere…not because she felt she was above acknowledging such human vices, but just deep down, she had always been expecting something like this, even if she hadn't consciously thought about it. If she was being honest with herself, she had never given her personal life much thought beyond what was expected of her in her position, because as king, as she said, she couldn't expect to live as a person…so why would someone who isn't person need a personal life?

"Sir…Lancelot…."

Saber thought she was going to cry.

Meanwhile, Lancelot, his face twisted grotesquely in rage, gnashed obscenely sharp teeth at her, growling, " _ARTHUR!_ "

It echoed the rage with which Mordred had screamed after her, when he'd revealed himself as her son.

"My friend…what has become of you?" Saber gasped, finding it hard to breathe, a painful knot in her chest winding itself tighter and tighter and tighter.

And then he came at her, brandishing the massive blade of Arondight.

Saber was still so shocked that her reaction time was slower than usual. Even so, she managed to get her own sword up just in time to block the blow. It was a hard hit to take. It crushed against her, and pushed her back a few inches across the cement floor of the parking garage.

That wasn't the only reason it was hard to take though.

"My friend…what's…happened…?" Saber pled with him, trying to reach the man she knew had to still live inside the maniac that was the Servant Berserker. Trapped. By time and memory, a cage of anger and grief.

Saber was on the brink of tears like she hadn't been in a very long time.

 _Is this my punishment? Was I truly a failure as a king? Am I receiving what I deserve, judgment for my_ poor _judgment? Is this_ my _fault? Is it?_

Hit. After hit. After hit. She took them all with very little resistance.

There was a voice screaming at her to fight back, but for the first time, Saber heard it like she was hearing it through water walled in by glass. That voice could beat on that glass too for all it wanted, but Saber herself felt numb, suspended and immobilized by her own doubt.

She couldn't even sense Kiritsugu's living heart anymore, and thought, with a thrill of fear that surprised her, that her Master was dead. Though she wasn't worried about herself disappearing any time soon, she knew that whatever he was, he had gone through so much to get this far. Whatever his sins, she had prayed at least all those sins would be outweighed of the perfect and happy world Kiritsugu longed to create with the power of the Grail.

Just like she dreamed for Briton.

It wasn't ideal in her eyes, but it was better than nothing.

Time became irrelevant. In fact, Saber was out of time, reexperiencing her experiences, remembering her memories…the roundtable meetings, the people who had come before her in supplication, her childhood spent pitting herself against the sword for hours on end in the training yard, her muscles aching from getting thrashed and riding on a horse, her female body sculpted the way a man's would have been, her will hardening to steel as she contemplated the enormity of her destiny and the privilege of her responsibility…moments she and Lancelot spoke to each and laughed as they looked out on the twilight from the parapets of Camelot…moments she and Guinevere would catch each other's eyes, those times when love was still there, and those times when it wasn't…that late afternoon, when the sunset lit the world like a hellfire, and her strongest knight, equal to Lancelot if not greater, Mordred…coming to her and telling her that he was her child…that she was her son, and she his father (seeing as how he hadn't been made privy that she was a she).

Saber knew it was cold of her to turn away from her child, a child who had been molded in her image, or close to it…and thus lived under too much of the shadow of Morgan's dark influence. There was too much reckless anger, and she was too young.

So turned away she did, refusing to acknowledge Mordred as her heir. She could tell herself it was to protect him from the weight of the crown, but really, that was a lie she told herself to keep her guilt at bay. With her guidance, Mordred could have been great. Someone who even could have been there after she had died, so her people wouldn't have been abandoned…as Rider told her they were.

But instead Arturia left him in the shadows. Arturia left everyone she loved in the shadows in pursuit of the light of the greater good. In some strange way, it was easier to be alone.

Indeed, Mordred had screamed her name at her back, screamed her name like a curse, that scream echoing from the deep darkness. Yet Saber had kept on walking.

Now she was paying for it. The ruin of Briton…the disaster her dying had left it in…Lancelot coming back to haunt her like this…on her path to salvation…she was paying the price and more for her arrogant idealism.

"I'm sorry," Saber whispered, as the hulking Lancelot slammed her against a support column and she slid pathetically to the floor. "I'm sorry…."

"Stop that."

Saber stilled and looked up. But it wasn't Lancelot before her.

It was Mordred, resplendent in red, the breeze lifting his hair that was blonde and done up similar to how Saber's was, and by the look in his eyes, he had seen a few things since last they met, things that had changed him. Though not for better or for worse.

"Mor…dred…."

Mordred's smile was cruel. "Is that all you have to say to me?"

Saber cast her eyes down. "What more _can_ I say? I have wronged you. I have wronged everyone I thought I was doing right by. But…I was sitting too high to truly see what was going on below." She looked up again. "And I left you at the mercy of your mother."

" _Mother_. Ha. That witch? Hardly." Mordred spat.

Saber smiled sadly. "Hm. You're right. Who am I trying to fool? Except myself." She looked at the reflection of her green eyes in the mirror shine of Excalibur's blade. And for a moment, she felt a different pair of eyes watching her. "Morgan Le Fay," she murmured. "Sister."

"How lovely it is to see you fall, and suffer for your crimes," Morgan Le Fey hissed. "Though I do regret that you and I could not have had more…we had a beautiful baby together, after all…a child you might have been proud of if you had allowed it so…."

She knelt beside Saber and reached out a hand to touch her cheek, and something dark stirred within the King of Knights. She closed her eyes, seeing it in her mind's eye, a new voice that whispered to her to do whatever it took to achieve her goal, not matter the cost…it was for the greater good, after all.

She thought of Kiritsugu, remembered that day watching him take his daughter into his arms and hug her like she were the most precious thing in the world to him. Then the memory changed so that it was Arturia, as she had been as king, kneeling down and hugging a small blond child—little Mordred, happy and healthy, to her heart.

But then, young Mordred tried to put the crown on his head, and instead fell beneath it, was crushed by it, as Morgan Le Fey forced the weight of it upon him…filled him with ambitions that were not his own until he believed that they were. His desires twisted and warped. Breaking him beyond repair.

Saber opened her eyes.

"Be gone, witch," she whispered, and Morgan Le Fey disappeared with a shocked gasp.

Then Saber turned to Mordred still standing there, watching.

"I didn't know what you had truly suffered, and I am sorry," she said and got to her feet to stand before her hate-filled child, leveling her a compassionate gaze. "But even so, you did not have the capacity to be king. I told you that before. I knew you could not handle the burden."

Mordred glared at her and spat again. "Don't give me that shit. Don't act like you were looking out for me. Who did you ever care about who was close to you? Not me. Not mother." Then she grinned evilly. "Not even Gwenny or Lancey."

A flash of anger.

Saber backhanded the rebel knight before she even let herself think about it. Like a parental reflex. Mordred recoiled, clutching his face, but Saber would give him the kindness of being merciless, and like she had done so many years ago, she put the monster down with her own hands, because it was a monster she had been responsible for.

She ran Mordred through, and like that day, Mordred again gaped at her, spat up blood and gasped, "Fa…ther…."

Saber held fast to him though, and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry…Mordred…please forgive me…" and she felt that same painful throb that she knew now Irisviel felt when she'd said goodbye to her daughter.

Mordred coughed again, tried to speak but couldn't. Saber pulled back to look in her child's eyes, and there was a pleading there that was nearly her undoing.

Before Mordred disappeared like Le Fey.

One more shade stood before her though.

It was Lancer, but with his back to her.

"Well, King of Knights, what are you going to do?" he asked. "Now that you're here?"

"I'm going to make this right," Saber told him, eyes shadowed by her bangs. "I'm going to make a right that's worthy of the wrong that was done to you."

Lancer still didn't turn around, but he did turn his face slightly toward her, and Saber thought he might be smiling, if sadly.

"You think it's that easy?"

"Please…forgive me, if you can, for what was done to you. I never meant for things to go that way. I never meant to betray you like that."

"Hm. Well, I partook in my share of betrayal, in life."

Saber watched as Lancer looked ahead of him again.

"Well go, then, and don't you hold back," he finally told her. "And perhaps, my soul might find a modicum of peace."

"I will. I promise." Saber's voice was as steady as a rock.

Lancer nodded once and then disappeared like Le Fay and Mordred. Yet something about the way he had spoken still made her fearful of what was to come.

And then there was Lancelot.

Berserker.

She had returned to her present surroundings.

Her enemy had gotten a hold of a semitruck and was actually throwing it up into the air.

Before, Saber had been close to weeping.

Now was not the time for such things as weeping.

She charged forward and leapt, right over the semi, and brought her sword down.

Friend or not, she had to put the Grail first. Not just for her sake, but for Lancelot's too. Even if he didn't understand.

Then again, no one really had understood her.

Except for perhaps…one person.

 _A woman with beautiful silver hair, calling to her, her smile reaching her bright red eyes._

 _"Saber!"_

Irisviel.

Saber thought of her and stood her ground against Lancelot's relentless beating on her with his sword as he roared in rage at her unwillingness to acknowledge that he had done her wrong and punish him for it.

She lifted Excalibur.

And struck.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

 _And again._

She did the very thing that she had criticized Kiritsugu for doing, and threw herself into it, letting go of all feeling, of everything…just strike, strike, strike, and matching blow for blow against Lancelot.

And then—an opening.

She seized it.

Ran her sword through it.

Struck Lancelot through the heart, straight and true.

Lancelot was in mid-roar, his sword still held aloft. As the fatality of the wound Saber had given him began to take over, he dropped Arondight. Saber heard it clang behind her.

"Arthur…" he croaked.

Then he started to go slack, started to fall…but Saber caught him around the middle with her free arm. As the truth of her victory over Berserker came over her, that's when everything else came flooding back. At that moment, Saber let herself cry, let the tears flow.

"Lancelot…."

But then, of all things, she felt Berserker—felt Lancelot—return her embrace, if weakly and lopsidedly. Just a light press to her back.

"Do not fret so, sire," he rasped. "It is…unbecoming…of a king…to fret…."

Saber blinked tears and the water from the sprinklers out of her eyes, her brow thick with water and sweat.

"I'm sorry, my friend," she whispered. "But I _must_ win the Grail. I must make things right again." She pulled the man she had called friend a little closer to her, more like she were embracing him like old times, even as a darkness and morbidity took root in her heart. Perhaps because it almost reminded her of something Kiritsugu would say. "For your sake as well. So…I release you from the bonds of your pain."

After that, she could only cry, softly, holding Lancelot close as he slowly disappeared, disintegrated as all Servants did when they died. The moment he was gone, Saber realized that somehow it had been Lancelot who had been holding _her_ up, as the lack of his physical presence caused her to drop to her knees. Excalbur fell to the floor beside her with a metallic clang, everything burning around her, her hair and armor wet and heavy.

She gasped, let herself cry for just a little longer, and then.

Enough.

She wiped her tears away and stood, dragging Excalibur up with her. And as she stood there amid the flames, and looked up at the dark ceiling, she realized she could feel the pulse of the Grail above her, the pulse that felt faintly of Irisviel.

Soon this would all be over and done with.

Thank God for that.

* * *

Upstairs, Saber found a great theatre hall, draped in red, and lit only by a single, golden illumination.

The Grail.

Sitting upon a table covered in a white table cloth.

Like a sacrificial altar.

It glowed so brightly, with the warm light that Irisviel had once given off.

And now….

"Oh…Irisviel," Saber whispered under her breath, and felt her heart break again, just for a spell.

There was nothing she could do for her friend now. All that was left was the Grail.

She even thought she could feel Kiritsugu's presence again, and again was surprised at her reaction, this time one of relief.

Perhaps not all was lost.

She took a step forward.

"Finally, Saber. It was exceedingly rude of you to keep me waiting as you did."

Saber bristled at the sound of that voice. "Archer," she growled, low like a lioness, watching as the preening gold peacock himself appeared and came to literally stand between her and the Grail.

Archer raised his blood-red eyes to her and purred. "Hello, my lovely flower of anguish."

Of all the final obstacles to stand between her and the Grail….

Saber grit her teeth and lifted Excalibur. "Move, Archer. Or _I_ will _move_ you."

"Tsk, tsk, my dear. You're really so fixated on such a trinket as the Grail? There is nothing in either Heaven or on Earth that will grant any wish that you desire. In short, you're wasting your time."

"Enough!"

"Yes, _that's_ the look I want!" Archer's crimson irises brightened with a kind of ecstatic insanity borne from obsession. And then he held out his gold-gauntleted hand out to her. "Come, my love, and be my wife."

" _What_?"

"Marry me and be my wife…give the Grail and yourself up to me, and I promise you every pleasure you could ever imagine. Let me be the one to melt away your pain and chase away your shadows with the glory of my light."

Saber spat. "What light? Your light is false at best."

But then Archer gave her a smirk that Saber recognized as dangerous coming from the likes of him.

It was her only warning though, and even so, she didn't quite manage to dodge the golden weapon from Archer's storehouse that came at her like an arrow and struck her in the leg.

Saber cried out, bent double, gasping against the pain of the blade buried in her thigh, spilling blood. She was far from yielding from this bastard though.

The golden discs of his Gate of Babylon shined behind him, each one heralding the appearance of new, gleaming weapon that he was prepared to launch at her until she submitted.

As if that would happen.

"Be mine, dear Saber. Abandon this foolish pursuit of the Grail and give yourself to the shelter of my love."

"You would…steal the Holy Grail from me…for such utter _nonsense_?!"

Archer clucked his tongue and chucked a spear at her next.

And then an axe.

And then another sword.

He began to laugh as she avoided some blows, blocked others with her own blade, and was hit by the rest.

And they _hurt_.

The pain they caused was like burning ice, setting her both freezing and on fire at the same time. In spite of her will, she didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to keep this up. That was the thing though, about the strength of will—the strongest wills possessed like a demon and wouldn't let you stop even when your body was screaming at you to. And Saber's body might have been more than a mortal's because she was a Heroic Spirit, but that just made her will even stronger.

She could almost hear Lancelot's voice….

 _"You are King Arthur! Now get up, on your feet!"_

"You see now, Saber," Archer taunted with a leer, "how my life is in your hands. All lives and all things belong to me, even you. I can promise you pain beyond measure, but I can also promise you pleasure in equal measure. You see, I'm even giving you a choice. You see how merciful a god I truly am…."

"You are no god," Saber growled at him. "And I'm done here."

Which was true in two senses. It just depended on whether it was her body that gave out, Heroic Spirit or no, or if she managed to persevere regardless.

Archer hissed between his teeth, and prepared another volley of blades, until something caught his attention across the vast theater.

Saber lifted her head, hardly daring to hope—

But there he was.

Kiritsugu.

Standing there like a demon of vengeance, dark eyes savage yet focused.

There might've been a divide between them, they would never see each other's point of view, but nevertheless—

Saber's heart lifted at the sight of him and his dark magnificence.

It gave her what she needed to yank the golden weapons buried in her body, stand tall on her feet once again, and lift her sword.

Yet when Kiritsugu met her green and hopeful eyes with his cold, dark, unwavering ones, the words that came out of his mouth as he actually addressed her directly, were the last ones she had expected to hear from him.

"In the name of Kiritsugu Emiya, and by my Command Seal: use your Noble Phantasm—destroy the Grail."

Saber staggered, her Master's words so baffling that she could scarcely comprehend them, as if he'd spoken a language she didn't understand. But even as her brain tried to wrap itself around them, her sword shook to life, illuminating brightly as if it had a mind of its own, preparing to unleash Excalibur's full power.

"What? No!"

She held onto the hilt of the sword more tightly, as if her sheer determination could resist the unresistable Command Seal that even then, yanked at her very nerves to do as her Master had bade her.

"What're you doing, Saber?! Archer demanded.

 _You…will…not…activate…._

Inside herself, Saber could feel the expanse of her power threatening to flare out and unlock the Noble Phantasm in full force as the power of the Command Seal continued to pull against her. She crushed it within herself with all she had, and to her relief, she could actually feel the power recede, despite how at the same time the Command Seal's power screamed at her in her head to obey her Master's order.

The triumph was short-lived however.

Kiritsugu was relentless.

And Saber wouldn't have expected any less of him.

"By my Third Command Seal, I order you again…."

 _NO!_

Saber's quavering heart gave way to despair. She shook her head as she tried once more, in vain this time, to hold back Excalibur's power and resist the Command Seal's magic.

"But, why….Kiritsugu!?" she begged of him, as the Command Seal overtook her. The power within her and the sword expanded once more, prepared to unleash itself, and all the while, her Master's order tugged at her arms, pulling them upward and forcing her to lift her blade—lifting them like an invisible string, like the puppet she was, the puppet Kiritsugu saw her as and nothing else.

Even so, she threw a glare over her shoulder at her Master.

"You…of all people…why this?!"

The will in those dark eyes, as he had told her that he was prepared to commit every sin if that's what it took to win the Holy Grail…so deep were the depths of his desire to rid the world of evil and bloodshed and bring it peace. The words and look of a man who had sold his soul long ago, but still dreamed of redeeming the soul of the world.

He had married and had a child with a woman who it turned out was merely the Vessel for the Grail all along. That daughter was depending on him to come home victorious so that he could free her from her mother's fate. Saber understood the meaning of Irisviel's words now.

He was not one who took sacrifices lightly.

At least…that was what she had thought.

She had been willing to give him that much credit.

Yet here was…throwing it all away.

Without hesitation.

He was nothing but a traitor to everyone around him.

She would never forgive him.

"You dare interrupt my nuptials!" Archer shouted pompously. "Mongrel!"

Kiritsugu pressed onward, the bastard.

"Saber…destroy…the Holy Grail!"

Saber could only scream as she was forced to destroy the last hope she had held in this world.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!"

Excalibur came down, her arms bringing it down as if they had a mind of their own. And the world broke apart around her in golden fire, blasting away everything in all directions, including the Grail.

Saber felt her heart break at last as she watched it disappear, extinguished like a flame.

That was when the tears fell.

All that was left then was for her to watch, numb and helpless, Excalibur limp at her side, her throat too tight for her to utter a sound, save for when her chest heaved as she lurched on the edge of weeping openly.

 _How can I possibly hope to know a man…by merely three commands alone?_

Saber bit her lip.

 _I never even knew…the hearts of those…who served me well…and were closest to me…._

Lancelot….

Mordred….

Guinevere….

All the Knights of the Round….

And Irisviel…that beautiful wilting iris…shining white in the twilight….

Saber shuddered as the weight of her failure bore down upon her, crushing what was left of her heart.

 _Perhaps all of this was a punishment meted out to a king…who cannot understand others…._

As the light of Excalibur's power grew brighter and greater, she closed her eyes, her grip on Excalibur slackening. Her power swallowed her up, her entire body, Heroic Spirit or no, was consumed in intense heat.

And then…everything was gone.

* * *

 _Arturia, as a youth, dressed as a boy, pulled the sword from the stone. Not long after, she was crowned King of Briton._

 _Merlin counselled her in the early days of her rule. His greatest advisement was that she form an order of knights with whom she could confer, for though she was king, the wisest leaders did not try to do everything on their own._

 _Arturia only took that somewhat to heart._

 _It was logical of course to run a country as vast as Briton was by regularly meeting with the lords of her land, and governmental and military strategy was always better when tackled by more than one mind._

 _But Merlin had also meant, she now realized, that her Knights of the Round were meant to be her comrades._

 _Yet she had kept separate, believing that as king she must be solitary, because she had to be prepared to make any sacrifice at a moment's notice, and she could not let bias that came with becoming close with someone cloud her judgment._

 _Even so, she had given herself human moments._

 _She was human, after all._

 _When she first saw Guinevere, her heart had thrilled within her at the sheer beauty of her. In particular, there was moment Arturia had observed as she had been dismounting from her horse, and she had come around and touched her forehead to that of the horse's, whispering to it rather playfully. Arturia had been enthralled, and she had allowed herself to know what it was to feel love._

 _The two of them exchanged their vows of courtly love upon their marriage, and when Arturia had kissed her, she had felt very much a man, more so than a woman, somehow, and was in a bliss she had never dreamed of. And for that moment, she ignored her convictions and let herself feel joy in romance with her new bride. And Guinevere had smiled at her, and she was radiant, even though she thought she was smiling for a man and not a woman._

 _Arturia was happy._

 _And then she formed her Round of Knights._

 _Bedevere, Galahad…._

 _But Lancelot, she had known from the start that he was a little different, a little less capable of fitting in. Yet it was for this reason that Arturia had warmed to him the most, because she'd never fit in either._

 _They had met by a river, and Arturia had challenged him to a duel without revealing to him that she was the king. After she defeated him soundly and revealed herself thus, he'd prostrated himself on the ground. But she had commanded him to lift himself up. She had smiled at him, proudly telling him how he had fought well, and that before he knew she was the king, the two of them had enjoyed a great rapport._

 _And Lancelot had smiled, tentatively, at having found a kindred spirit in the king._

 _Arturia had asked him to join the Round Table, and he had accepted._

 _In the years that followed, Arturia's inner world crumbled here and there, with Guinevere, and then her copulation with Morgan Le Fey, not knowing until it was too late of the child that had been born from their union. But she had found some peace in her conversations with Lancelot, their friendly discourses. And he seemed to find the same kind of comfort. Perhaps, a few times, she had entertained that he was rather a handsome man, and even imagined what it would have been like if she'd been a maiden hoping he would look her way, perhaps extend to her a flower or a token of affection._

 _But then a chill came, the world grew colder, and without realizing it, Guinevere and Lancelot sought to be in each other's arms behind Arturia's back. And then, when Arturia learned the truth, that was when it was all over. Lancelot cried out in anguished rage, and Guinevere faded away slowly._

 _From that day forward, Arturia never again experienced happiness as she had once been able, not for the rest of her life._

 _And then Mordred revealed himself, and Arturia thought she was doing the right thing by refusing to acknowledge her sole blood heir. Yet, it seemed no matter what she did, Mordred, the hothead, would act just as Morgan Le Fey hoped and rebel._

 _They fought, and Arturia was forced to put her own child down._

 _After that, the king collapsed, mortally wounded, and finding herself completely and utterly alone on the battlefield, with only corpses for miles around._

 _What a terribly sad place to die._

 _Forced to bend to the whim of destiny, her life stolen from her, a life she was forced to live for the service of others rather than for herself. A life that had never been hers for as long as she could remember. From the moment she first drew breath._

 _It was the sum of a life that was very noble, but also painful._

 _And there was someone…someone she felt had once told her…that that was not how a person should live…even though she had argued that as king…she should not expect to live her life as a person…._

And there she was, back again.

Back on the hill of so many dead, beneath a mourning sky. She felt the mortal wound she had suffered in her final duel with Mordred bleeding out of her again. Not far off, that very knight lay dead, as if Arturia had never spent nearly two weeks' worth out of her time, her moment of death was still waiting for her as if she'd never left it to go to fight one last war that might've changed things for the better, instead of forcing her to return here.

It had all been for nothing. She was going to die here, like before, before she was drawn into the Holy Grail War, as if everything she had fought for had meant nothing, as if all of her fighting had been wasted.

It was all over.

There was nothing left.

A feeling came to her, one akin to the misery she'd felt as a very small child whenever she'd fall and scrape her knee, or get hurt in those early days training with the sword, tripping over her own two feet. She had been so clumsy back then. She had grown out of crying, in a time when it was believed that crying was something men were expected to grow out of.

Yet as this fragility returned to her, it sent her teetering on the edge of tears again, as it had when she'd watched Lancelot die, when she thought of how Lancer and all those children Caster had preyed upon had died…when she thought of how poor, lovely Irisviel had died.

She had sacrificed her very life. Arturia knew that now.

And her husband…her _dear_ husband…that traitor…had tossed it aside at the very last minute. He had betrayed them all, including himself.

Arturia grit her teeth. "Damn it…I was so close," she lamented. "And now…."

Just one more push…and she was over the edge.

"Lance—Lancelot…" she croaked, tears springing forth…her very own human tears as she died within her own human body.

Lancer…Lancelot…Mordred…Guinevere….

Irisviel….

 _"Saber!"_

That sweet voice calling out to her.

A voice no one would ever hear again.

And for what?

Everything had fallen. Everything had been ruined.

And then sorrow and grief overtook her, crashed down upon her and swallowed her up like a wave. Unable to bear it, she threw back her head and gave a loud and agonized cry to the unforgiving heavens above her. She sobbed like she hadn't sobbed in years, not since she was very small, not since in fact she'd still been able to act a bit like the girl she was.

 _"You may have saved them, but you never_ lead _them. You're just a little girl…."_

That's what Rider had told her. It was true. She understood that now.

As king, she had thought that that meant that she was meant to walk in the light as a shining example to her people, but instead she had left everyone she had ever loved or cared about behind, everyone who had ever made her feel human. And her kingdom had crumbled around her, and she'd just looked up, up, up….

Arturia dropped her head, apologies and regrets falling from her lips like rain.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…."

She had thought she had known heartbreak. She had been a fool.

A heart wasn't truly broken until the bearer of that heart felt they could truly never be whole again.

It no longer mattered whether she wished for Briton to be saved from the destruction that had ultimately taken it in the wake of her death. The only way to really to protect it from such a fate was….

"It was never me," she gasped, "who should've…been king…."

That was all she had left to hold onto…that one dark thought that she never should've pulled that damn sword out of the stone in the first damn place.

What hope was there left? What hope did she—or anyone for that matter—have for a miracle?

Unless….


End file.
